Learning How To Fall
by Caley3324
Summary: Zach and Cammie's oldest daughter feels completely invisible when her twin siblings are born. It's the start of summer and she feels like it's going to be the longest of her life. But then she meets a boy who actually sees her...
1. Chapter 1

1.

I got bored of following the man in the pale yellow shirt, so I set my sights on a woman in leopard heels. It wasn't exactly exciting, seeing as how these people weren't trained and had no idea that I was following them, but still, it was something to do. After all, it beat sitting at home where my mom and dad were doting on the newest additions to our family: Rider and Josie. Rider and Josie had been born only five months earlier, and they were the best thing to ever happen to the Goode family. At least, according to everyone but me. To me, they were just nuisances that cried at inconvenient times and lapped up all of the attention.

Not that I'm petty; I just wish that mom and dad would hear me when I talk or see me while I'm sitting at the kitchen table. Or even care when I tell them where I'm going. I had always been one to blend in, just like my mother. I could go unnoticed to even the people that knew me really well. In spy world, being invisible was good. But I didn't want to be invisible to my parents. I wanted them to care again.

I sighed and grew tired of my game. I bought a milkshake and a slice of pizza in the food court and sat down at a small table to eat. I was on my fifth bite when someone sat across from me. I looked up.

He was my age, maybe a year older, and clean shaven. His skin was not quite tan but not pale, and his neatly trimmed hair was messy on top, a rich shade of brown. His eyes were bright blue and totally enchanting. If I had been any other girl, I would have swooned.

But, I was Morgan Goode, and I did _not_ swoon. "Can I help you?" I asked coldly.

He smirked. "No."

"Then what are you doing at my table?"

"Your table?" he asked, feigning confusion. "I'm so sorry; I didn't see your name on it."

Not that I was an expert on dating or anything, but that didn't exactly seem like the best way to get a girl's number. "What do you want?"

"I'm just curious…" he looked around as if making sure that no one could hear us. "Is tailing civilians fun? Because, to me, it just seems boring."

My mouth fell open. Sure, spies are supposed to never let anything surprise them, but I was a little caught off guard. I mean, I was home for the summer and hearing mention of anything to do with spying just got to me. "Um…" I tried to compose my face. "What?"

He smirked again and it made me want to reach across the table and slap him. "Come on, Gallagher Girl."

I'd heard my dad call my mom that before. "How do you know…"

He pointed to himself. "I go to Blackthorne. And, I know that Gallagher's the only female spy school in North America, so…"

"I could be from England," I said.

"No accent," he disagreed.

"I could be hiding it to throw you off."

His smirk grew wider. "You could, but you're not, Gallagher Girl. So, you didn't answer my question."

_What was the question?_ "Um…I'm just….I mean, I just…"

"Need a life?" he supplied.

I rolled my eyes, suddenly angry. Angry because he was actually right. I could've been at one of my friends' houses, but Beth was going on a mission with her parents, Leah was helping NASA, and Marie was on a world-wide shopping spree with her mother. "No," I said, a little too defensively.

"It's okay, Gallagher Girl," he said. "Everybody gets bored."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

"Why the hostility?" he asked.

"It's not hostility."

"Morgan Goode, you are a terrible liar. What are they teaching you at Gallagher?"

"How do you know my name?" I asked, surprised.

He pointed to himself. "Blackthorne. Spy. Ring a bell?"

"Who _are_ you?" I asked. "Besides an over-confident and severely annoying spy?"

He exhaled a laugh. "My name's Trey."

"Last name?"

He chuckled. "Carson. You're not gonna find me in the system, Gallagher Girl."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, duh."

He shrugged. "Just warning. Wouldn't want you to waste anymore of your…valuable time."

I felt myself blush. "Well, I actually do have…things that I could be doing."

"Such as?"

_Shoot_. "Well…"

He smirked. "That's what I thought."

"You have any suggestions?" I snapped.

Trey sighed and began to play with the salt shaker. "There's a guy behind you. He's in a navy cap and he's been following you all afternoon."

I found a reflective surface and located the guy. I vaguely remembered him earlier, in a jogging suit. Holy crap, how had I not noticed him? And how had Trey? "Well, if you've noticed that he's been following me all afternoon, that means that you've been following me, too."

Trey grinned. "Guilty as charged. At first, it was just a hunch, but…"

"Hunch?"

"They say you're good," he said. "They say that you're the best pavement artist anyone's seen in a long time."

"_They_?"

He smirked, but then his expression changed as he studied my face. "They say that you can't be found if you don't want to be; that you can just…disappear. They say no one can see you if you don't want to be seen."

"You saw me," I pointed out, realizing it myself.

He gave me a small smile. "Personally, I think you're hard to miss."

I felt myself blush. "Is that a compliment?"

"Absolutely."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

I got home from the mall really late that night. Not that my parents noticed or anything. I slipped in the front door and watched as my mom and dad desperately tried to get Rider to stop crying. I edged towards the stairs and then up to my room. I took a shower, wrapped my light brown hair in a towel, and put on flannel pajamas.

I paced my room, listening to music on my iPod. Suddenly, I broke into a wide grin that was totally out of character for me as my thoughts turned to Trey. We had spent a while in the food court, just getting to know one another. Then, he had asked me to walk with him and I had. We'd decided to trail random people as I had been doing earlier and when I found him watching me, I asked, "What?"

"Just taking notes," he said with a cocky half-smile.

I had rolled my eyes but I had also blushed.

How had he gotten to me? I was –and had always been- the carefully guarded girl. The girl that never let anyone in on a whim. The girl that didn't trust easily. And yet, Trey had waltzed in and I had ended up telling him how I felt so invisible at home and about my life in general. He had told me about his life, too, but it wasn't the same. Maybe he just wasn't as guarded as I was.

And how had he picked me out in a crowd, anyway?

Was he a honeypot?

What could he –or whatever organization or person he was working for – want from me?

_Stop it!_ A voice in the back of my head commanded. _He isn't a honeypot! He's just a really sweet –and undeniably hot- guy that actually sees you._

Was that even possible?

I mean, I wasn't ugly by any means. I was actually very pretty. But, I had always been invisible; a good pavement artist, like my mom. How had he seen me? Had he actually been hired?

_To do what, exactly?_ The voice challenged.

I sighed in defeat as I took the earphones out and turned my iPod off. I put it on my computer desk and then washed my face and brushed and flossed my teeth. I crawled under the covers of my bed and thought about the unanswered questions.

_Only one way to find out_.

"Hey, Gallagher Girl."

I jumped and spun around, finding Trey standing only a few feet behind me. He chuckled and came to lean against the rail with me. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Of course you didn't," I said coldly, not happy about the fact that he had managed to sneak up on me.

"There's that hostility again," he said. "Didn't you learn anything in your Culture class?"

True, Madame Dabney would have my head if she were there. I faked a sweet smile. "How are you this fine morning, Trey?"

He rolled his eyes. "I think I like hostile Morgan better."

I smirked the same smirk that my dad used. "That's what I thought."

"So," he said. "No stalking innocent civilians today?"

I shrugged. "Haven't gotten around to it yet. I just got here…"

"Twelve minutes ago," he inserted. "I've been following you the whole time."

"You have not!" I hadn't even suspected.

"Apparently," he said with his cocky half-smile. "The notes that I took yesterday were pretty good."

I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't paying attention."

"A good spy should always be paying attention," he pretended to lecture.

"Shut up," I mumbled, looking at the crown bustling below.

"By the way," he said. "You were totally paying attention."

I was about to argue, but then his breath was on my ear, his voice a low whisper. "I'm just that good."

I felt myself shiver and I saw him smirk. I decided to play the game with him. "You think so?"

"Know so," he said as he straightened up, still leaning on the rail. He wore a navy Abercrombie shirt and jeans, along with Nikes. His hair was in that same attractively messy style.

"Prove it," I challenged.

"Name it," he said.

"I'll follow you, and you have to find me."

He snorted. "_Too_ easy, Gallagher Girl."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll give you a ten second head start and then I'll follow."

"Fair."

He spun on his heel and walked away at a quick pace, wanting to put as much distance between himself and me as possible. As soon as he couldn't see me anymore, I hurried into Hollister, the nearest store. I knew that it was bad to lose sight of him, but I had to change clothes. I bought a T-shirt, jeans, and a bag to store my other clothes in. I pulled my straightened hair into a ponytail and headed off. At a cart in the middle of the mall, I bought a pair of sunglasses.

Finding him was hard, tailing him was harder. He used every trick in the book, from flipping to heading into stores and elevators so that I would have no chance of catching him. He was good, but I was determined to be better. After all, I was the product of a Morgan and a Goode.

My confidence spiked when I saw him looking around quickly, trying to spot me. He was getting a little antsy; I could tell by the quick pace he took and the way he looked around at random intervals. "Maybe this'll wipe that smirk off his face," I muttered to myself as I followed him into Abercrombie.

It was dim in the store, and it smelled strongly of cologne. Not too many people were inside, so I had to be extremely careful, always keeping to the shadows and close to clothes racks. He disappeared around a corner and I followed.

As I rounded the corner, his hand slipped into mine as he kept pace with me and we walked towards the exit of the store. We were almost to the door when he leaned in to whisper in my ear, "I found you, Gallagher Girl."

"Yeah," I replied, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. "You did."


	3. Chapter 3

3.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

He smiled. "That's a weird question."

I shrugged and waited for his answer. He sighed and his eyes smoldered. "Sorry, Gallagher Girl, it's classified."

"What's the worst thing you've ever done that _isn't_ classified?"

He laughed. "Umm…I put itching powder in one of our teachers' jackets once."

I laughed. "You did not."

"I did," he said. "You underestimate me. I'm actually quite mischievous."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure. So, are we tailing today or just hanging around?"

He shrugged, "Whatever your heart desires."

"Hmm…..let's tail one person each and meet at our table in thirty minutes."

"Fair," he agreed, quickly scanning the crowd in front of us. "Lady in the navy blouse with the wild red hair is yours."

"Big man eating the ice cream cone is yours."

"Go," we said together and headed off to follow our tails. The lady I was following walked at an impossibly slow pace, and I found myself getting annoyed as the minutes slowly ticked by. She went into a jewelry store looking at engagement rings and I sat on a bench outside, pretending to talk on my cell phone while keeping an eye on her. She finally left and I followed her until my thirty minutes were up.

"Thank God," I said as I sat down at our table. "She was _horrible_. You sure know how to pick 'em."

Trey smiled at me. "What's wrong, Gallagher Girl?"

"She walked impossibly slow and spent fifteen minutes looking at engagement rings."

"My guy just came straight here," Trey said with his signature smirk. "He's actually still here, at that table to your two 'o' clock."

I glanced that way and sure enough, Trey's "target" was sitting at the small table eating Chinese food. I pouted, "That's totally not fair."

Trey continued to smirk. "Life's not fair. Haven't you learned that yet?"

"Not quite. I'm taking my own sweet time. What are we having for lunch today?"

"I say burgers."

"Agreed."

We bought burgers and drinks and went back to our table to eat. We talked and ate and I realized as Trey took our trash away that I was actually _happy_. When I had first come home from Gallagher for my last summer vacation at home, I had realized instantly that things were going to be a lot different. My mom had barely given me a kiss on the cheek when a baby started crying and she had rushed off. Neither of them had talked much to me – maybe a total of fifty words between them.

Of course, it had only been a week, but that was still pathetic. We used to talk all of the time. I'd listen while they told me spy stories or gave me tips on how to kill a man with a jump rope or successfully lose a tail. They had always loved hearing about my school experiences and they were always so proud of the new skills I'd learned. But that was all suddenly out the window. All because Rider Matthew Goode and Lily Marie Goode had been born.

I sound resentful to them, but I'm really not. Jealous, maybe? A little, I guess.

"Gallagher Girl?"

"Hmm?" I snapped out of my serene thinking period.

He gave me a gentle smile. "What are you thinking about?"

"Life," I sighed.

"Things aren't any better at home?"

I shook my head. "Not at all."

He gave me a sympathetic look. "Sorry, Morgan."

I shrugged. "Oh, well. Life isn't fair."

He smiled. "Finally learn?"

"Guess so."

"What part bothers you the most?" he asked, reaching across the table to take my hands.

"Being invisible," I answered automatically. "I mean, I know that in a spy world, being invisible is the best thing you can do, but…"

"But you shouldn't be invisible in your own home," he supplied in a soft voice. "To your own family."

"Exactly," I said. "It's just been so _hard_ not to question their love for me. I mean, they haven't even noticed me except for when they need me to fetch a bottle or a pacifier."

Tears stung at my eyes and I looked down at the table and blinked furiously, holding them back.

"Gallagher Girl." I'd never heard Trey's voice that soft and gentle.

I couldn't bring myself to look up because I was afraid I'd cry. I heard Trey get up and come to my side. He sat in the chair beside mine and lifted my chin. His eyes were intensely looking into mine and his voice was firm and confident. "Gallagher Girl, your parents love you. They're just preoccupied."

"Too preoccupied for an invisible girl," I said.

He shook his head. "You're not invisible."

"Yes, I am." My voice was tight and I choked back tears. Why was I getting so emotional?

"Not to me," Trey said softly before leaning in to kiss me.

Later that night, I walked in the front door, the smile still plastered to my face and the night replaying over and over in my head. I walked to the stairs, oblivious to my mom and dad, who were changing diapers. In my room, I spun in circles, looking like an idiot but feeling on top of the world.

My first kiss.

I know that sounds weird, a girl not having her first kiss until she's seventeen, but when you're a spy, it's kind of hard to hook up with guys. Especially if you go to an all-girls school.

I took a shower and sang the whole time, even as I was changing into my pajamas. I couldn't quit singing, so I listened to my iPod and danced around my room, the smile still plastered on my face.

It just wouldn't go away.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

"Hey."

"Hey," I smiled as Trey wrapped his arms around me. I was amazed at how quickly his touch had become familiar, his embrace comforting. How long had it been? I thought back. Only three weeks. It was now mid-June. Meeting Trey at the mall had become a ritual.

"Cute shoes," he teased.

I laughed and held them out to him. "Hold these while I look for some flats."

"Yes ma'am," he said, obediently taking the shoes and pretending to look over them critically. "Are you sure you can walk in these death traps?"

I laughed. "The heels are only two inches high."

"_Still_."

I giggled. "Two inch are the easiest to walk in."

"I disagree," he said seriously. "I think the taller, the better. Why not strut your stuff?"

I laughed as I picked out a cute pair of black flats. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're gay."

"But you do know better," he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "I'll go pay and then we can go. By the way, did you tail me in here?"

"Guilty as charged."

I smiled and took the heels from him, walking to the register. I paid for both pairs of shoes and then Trey and I left. "You could volunteer to carry my bag for me," I suggested.

He shook his head. "It's not that heavy. You're a Gallagher Girl, remember? Able to handle anything."

"It'd be chivalrous."

He rolled his eyes. "Chivalry's not a strong suit at Blackthorne."

"I can see that," I teased.

He pulled me off to the side and kissed me deeply, leaving me completely breathless. When he pulled away, he smirked, "Can you?"

I pretended not to be impressed by the kiss we'd just had. "Yeah, I can." I traced the A of Aeropostale on his red shirt and gave him a smirk of my own. "So, what are we doing today?"

"I thought we could skip the mall," he said. "Maybe find a quiet little place."

Butterflies went wild in my stomach. "Oh, yeah?"

He smirked. "Scared, Gallagher Girl?"

"Not at all."

"Then let's go."

We ended up in the park not too far from the mall. The park was right by the back fence of my house, too, so I stashed my bag on the other side of the fence and then Trey and I walked hand-in-hand. We talked for a while about how my life at home hadn't really gotten any better and he talked about his recent black bag job (which, contrary to popular belief, isn't as cool as it sounds).

I didn't object when he pulled me into a forested section, hidden from view of anyone else. I let him back me against a tree, bury his hands in my hair, and kiss me deeply and passionately. And I kissed him back with just as much passion. He never once tried to move his hands under my clothes, maybe because he was a respectful guy or maybe because he figured I'd break his arm if he tried.

In any case, we made out for a long time. When we finally separated, I reached up to touch the mark that I knew he'd left on my neck and smiled. "What if my parents see this?"

"They won't," he smirked. "They don't pay attention, remember?"

I smiled, "True."

"And I hope you're not a snitch anyway," he teased, moving his lips to my neck again.

I sighed, content. "Only when people make me mad."

"Then I don't have anything to worry about," he murmured as he trailed feather-light kisses down my neck.

I smiled. "No. You have nothing to worry about."

Four hours later, I walked into my house. I headed for the stairs and had almost reached the door to my room when my dad called, "Morgan? Can you come here for a second?"

_Crap_. No way the hickey had faded. "I need to use the bathroom. Just a sec."

I ran into my room, closing the door rapidly behind me. The mark was even bigger than I had thought, I realized as I looked in the mirror. _Crap! Crap! Crap!_ How was I going to hide it? It's not like I could put on a turtleneck in the middle of June and not raise suspicions. I could put on a jacket with a hood and say that I didn't feel good and had a fever, but I didn't have any of Claire's fever-inducing pills, so I couldn't give myself a fever.

_CRAP!_

"Morgan?" my mom knocked on my door.

"Just a sec!" I called, somehow managing to hide the panic that I felt. I ran to my closet, threw on a jacket with a high enough collar that I wouldn't need to pull up the hood, and ran back to the door. I opened it and smiled at my mom, who stood on the other side holding a sleeping Josie.

"You okay, Sweetie?" she asked.

"Yep."

She smiled, "I just wondered if pizza's okay for dinner? I don't really feel like making anything." Her cooking sucked anyway. "Rider and Josie were crying _all_ day. Oh, where were you all day? That's what your dad was going to ask."

Stay calm. Lie. You're a spy. You're trained to lie. You can do it. "I went to the mall," I said. "Just to look around and stuff."

"Oh." She gave me a kind smile. "I don't blame ya. I wouldn't wanna listen to babies cry all day, either. Why are you wearing a jacket?"

"I'm kinda cold," I said sheepishly. "I don't have a fever, though. Just cold."

"Do you want me to make you some tea?"

I shook my head. She looked tired enough as it was. "I'll be fine, Mom. Thanks."

She smiled. "Okay. I'll order the pizza."

She left and I sighed in relief that I had managed my lie and kept the evidence covered.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

A hand clamped over my mouth and I drew my arm up to elbow my attacker. "Gallagher Girl," Trey's voice whispered into my ear. "Stop."

I let my elbow rest and felt Trey crawl into bed with me, under the covers. I let him put his arms around me and I rolled so that I was facing him. He was smirking, of course. "Geez, Trey, were you attempting to give me a heart attack?" I tried to sound mad, but I wasn't.

He chuckled softly, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." I clutched the front of his shirt. "You can stay."

He kissed my forehead and then down my neck. "I see you got rid of my mark. Should I make another one?"

I smiled, but said, "I almost got caught with that mark."

His lips pressed to mine and he asked, "How?"

I told him about almost getting caught and when I finished the story, he started laughing quietly. "Shut up!" I whisper yelled. "It's not funny!"

He tried to control his laughing, but it didn't help. I tried to change the subject. "How did you get in here?"

He calmed down and began stroking my hair. "You should really lock your window at night, Gallagher Girl."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't because my parents have a security system in place that-"

"Isn't turned on," he interrupted. "I hacked their system because I figured they'd have a security system in place. Well, they did, but it wasn't on."

"They haven't been turning the security system on?"

He shrugged. "Guess not. Maybe they're just too tired with the babies to remember."

"That makes sense," I said as I remembered how tired they'd both looked at dinner. As if on cue, one of the babies began to cry. Trey tensed, but I said, "It's okay; they stay in my parents' room anyway. They won't need to walk down the hall or anything."

He smiled and kissed me. "Good."

When he started to pull away, I pulled him in for an even deeper kiss. I liked the way his soft lips felt against my own. I liked the smell of his cologne and shampoo, and I liked running my fingers through his impossibly soft hair. I liked his breath on my skin.

He bit down on my neck and I bit my lip. He sucked on the skin and I said, "If you're gonna make another mark, make it easy to cover."

He sighed as he moved his lips to a different part of my skin. I smiled, still biting my lip to keep from making a sound. After a minute, he moved his mouth back to mine and we began kissing again. When we finally ran out of breath, he pulled me into his arms and my head rested on his chest.

He kissed my hair and said, "How's your home life now?"

I smiled. "Much improved."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

We were silent for a few minutes. I closed my eyes, focusing only on his gentle touch as he stroked my hair and drew lazy circles on my arm with his fingers. I listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong, and felt his warmth completely envelope me. It felt so right.

"How is this happening?" he asked softly.

"What do you mean?" I whispered back.

"Us," he said. "How did I fall for you so quickly?"

I looked up at him to make sure he saw my smirk. "It must be my winning charm."

He smiled down at me. "Maybe. Or maybe it's your personality. Or your beauty. Or your wit."

"I never notice when you're tailing me," I said. "Not much wit there."

"You don't _try_ to notice," he replied. "That doesn't count."

"I suppose."

He kissed me and when he pulled away, he said, "I never thought that I'd fall for anyone. I always figured that I'd live the life of a spy all alone, going on impossibly long missions and coming home to nothing. Getting drunk and then going on a mission the next day. I never imagined…."

"What?" I prompted, not wanting him to stop. I needed to know what he was going to say.

"I never imagined that someone could waltz into my life and make me want to be a part of something bigger than life as a spy."

His words took my breath away more cleanly than any kiss ever could. Sure, he hadn't said that he loved me, but he had said that he cared about me. A lot. I had changed something for him. I felt tears in my eyes and I looked away so that he couldn't see them.

He lifted my chin with his hand so that I had to look at him. "Morgan?"

I smiled. "Thank you."

He shook his head. "No. Thank _you_."

We kissed some more, mostly just short, gentle kisses. We murmured to each other in the dark, speaking of dreams and wishes, soaking up the night securely in each other's arms. I had never felt less invisible in my entire life and as a spy, that was a scary thought but as a girl, it felt perfect.

He made me feel like I was someone worth paying attention to. He made me look past spy life. He made me feel…normal. And as a spy-in-training, I can honestly say that it's hard to feel normal most of the time.

When both babies started crying, I sighed, "They're up for good."

Trey sighed, too. "So soon?"

I smiled. "I'll see you at the mall later."

"How 'bout the park?" he asked, sitting up.

I smiled, remembering. "Yeah, that works."

He kissed me. "What time?"

"I need some sleep," I said. "So how 'bout noon?"

"Good luck sleeping with all the crying."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks."

He kissed me. "I'll see you later."

"'Bye."

He was gone in five seconds, the window shut behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

"You're late," I said.

Two seconds later, Trey sat across from me, a smile on his face. "You noticed me tailing you?"

"No," I said. "But I heard your footsteps and smelled your cologne and I just…knew."

He smirked. "I didn't know we had a specified meeting time."

I rolled my eyes. "So, what are we doing today?"

His face grew serious. "Actually, I need your help?"

I looked into his eyes, searching for an answer before I had even asked the question. "With what?"

"Your two 'o' clock, there's a guy in a red cap. Your six 'o' clock, woman in a maroon shirt. Your seven-thirty, guy in a suit and purple tie. Do you see them?"

As discreetly as I could, I found the people he had just described and nodded. "Yeah, I see them."

"They've been tailing me all day. That's why I'm late."

"How long have you been trying to lose them?" I asked, feeling myself going into spy mode.

He shrugged. "Almost three hours now. There are three of them and only one of me. But I have a feeling that they have some help. I've been using all of these different maneuvers and there's just no way that they're following me that well."

"Security cameras?"

He gave a curt nod. "I think so."

"Why would they be following you?" I asked. It didn't make any sense. What could Trey possibly have to offer that they would want? They looked like professionals in our kind of business. Why did they need a seventeen-year-old?

I could tell that he was hiding something; it was in his eyes. "I don't know."

I knew that he was lying. "Yes, you do, Trey. Tell me."

He sighed, "Look, Morgan, it's complicated."

"Then _un_complicate it," I said, staring daggers at him.

"We don't have time, Gallagher Girl. I need you to help me."

"Do what?" I asked. "Give you my chameleon skills? It doesn't work like that."

A super small smirk played at his lips. "I know. I just want to trap them."

"How are you planning to do that?" I asked. "Like you said: they have some help, and we have no idea what that help is."

"Come on," he said, his eyes pleading. "We have to try. I need to know…" he trailed off in a way that said that he'd been about to give away too much information. So he was definitely hiding something.

But what?

And _why_?

Spies lie and spies keep secrets, but no secret had ever bothered me so much. "Trey, what's going on? What do you need to find out?"

When he looked at me, his eyes were pleading. "Gallagher Girl, don't make me go down this road."

"What road?" I asked, feeling angry. "I'm not making you do anything, Trey. I'm just asking you to trust me. What's going on?"

He shook his head. "I can't. I just can't."

"Why?" I felt angry tears building up behind my eyes. "What's the big deal, Trey? Do you know who those people are?"

He sighed in frustration. "Please, don't do this right now, Morgan. I don't need a distraction."

"Is that all I am?" I asked angrily. "A distraction?"

"No!" he said, shocked.

"That's what you just said!"

He shook his head. "You took it the wrong way."

"How was I supposed to take it?"

"Morgan, please…"

I stood up, grabbing my purse. "Good luck with your tails, Trey."

"Morgan, stop."

I looked at him, gathering all of my courage and willpower to speak. "Tell me what you know, Trey, or I'm walking away."

He sighed and looked down at his arms that were resting on the table. After a minute, he said, "Do you know what Blackthorne is?"

I was confused. That was a completely stupid question. My dad had gone to Blackthorne. "It's a school for spies. Like Gallagher, but for boys."

He gave a smile that wasn't happy in any way. "No, Gallagher Girl. If only that were true."

I was confused. My dad knew all of the same skills as my mom; they had both had the same type of training. Hadn't they? They had to. My dad went on missions just like my mom did. "What does that mean?"

"Have you seen the Bourne trilogy?" he asked me in a barely audible voice. "Jason Bourne?"

I nodded, unable to speak, wondering where this was going to lead. He leaned forward and locked his eyes with mine. "Do you remember, in the first one, at the very end, when he was confronting Conklin? He asked who he was, and Conklin told him, 'You're US government property'."

I took over the quote. "You're a malfunctioning thirty million dollar weapon. You're a total goddamn catastrophe and by God, if it kills me, you're going to tell me how this happened."

Trey nodded. "Good, Gallagher Girl. Very good."

"What's that have to do with anything?" I asked, very confused.

"That's what I am, Morgan," he said softly. "A weapon, a catastrophe. I belong to the government, although maybe not as much as Jason Bourne did. Blackthorne is a school for-"

I cut him off. "A school for assassins."

My dad's an assassin.

Did my mom know that?

She had to.

Why hadn't they told me?

Wait….Trey was an assassin?

People hired him to kill people.

"Morgan?" Trey asked, concerned. "Morgan, are you okay?"

"You're an assassin," I whispered.

He nodded, looking truly regretful. "Morgan, I'm so sorry that you had to find out like this."

"My dad's an assassin," I said. "He doesn't go on missions to spy for the CIA. He goes on missions to kill people." My voice was bitter.

"Morgan….."

"Who are those people that are following you, Trey?"

Trey looked at me sadly. "I killed their leader two months ago."


	7. Chapter 7

7.

"How many people have you killed, Trey?" I asked as I sank back into my chair. Maybe if you heard someone you'd been making out with was a killer, you'd make a run for it. Maybe I should've made a run for it. But I knew that I cared about him and I needed to hear him out.

He let out a shaky breath. "Twenty-one."

"Who hires you?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Sometimes I don't know. They'll just give me the assignment and when it's complete, they'll wire the money to my account. Other times, the headmaster calls me to his office and gives me an assignment that someone had told him to give to me. It all depends."

"How old were you the first time that you…."

"I was thirteen," he said.

Thirteen years old. I tried to think back to when I was thirteen. I had been so innocent that year. And Trey had lost his innocence that year. "Who was it?" I asked. I had no idea why I wanted to know, but I just did.

"His name was Juan Otera, and he was a drug lord."

"How'd you do it?" Why did I want to know that?

"I broke his neck."

"With your bare hands?"

He nodded and I shivered suddenly. I knew how to kill people, of course, but I had never actually put any of those skills into action. I had never watched someone lose their life because of me.

The guy sitting across the table from me had.

He looked at me and I could see millions of different emotions in his eyes, from defeat to helplessness. He hadn't really wanted to kill those people, but it's what he had been raised to do. "Do your parents know?"

"Yes."

"They don't care?"

"No."

If I had been a boy, would I have ended up at Blackthorne? Would my dad have let me go, with him knowing full well what I would grow up to be? Surely not…..but I guess you never know.

"Does it get easier?" I wondered aloud, unsure of if I had really meant to say it or not.

He shook his head. "No."

Good; he wasn't completely heartless. He felt something when he had to kill those people. He didn't like it, but he did it anyway. Because that's what he was trained to do. That's what he was expected to do.

Did he have the same legacy pressure that I did? I was the product of a Morgan and a Goode, so people expected me to be a good spy. Were his parents good assassins? Is that why they sent him to Blackthorne? Was he desperately trying to live up to their legacy?

"Are your parents…like you?"

"My dad is," he replied.

"Your mom?"

"She went to Gallagher, like you, but she chose not to be a spy. She went into the medical field."

"Oh," I said softly. Why would anyone choose not to be a spy when they have ample opportunity? I couldn't imagine anything else. But, then again, that's what I had grown up with. My parents were both spies. Well, actually, I had just learned that one of them was secretly an assassin. But maybe Trey's mother hadn't grown up with spies. Maybe she wanted to be normal.

Normal.

A word that would never be able to describe my life. I would graduate Gallagher and become a spy for the CIA. I wouldn't raise children, because I wouldn't want to risk them getting hurt. I would go on a lot of missions and save a lot of lives. I was going to be good.

But Trey seemed to already have messed that up for himself. Well, maybe it wasn't his fault. But, either way, he wasn't exactly a good guy. Because killing people just because someone else tells you to isn't good. It's totally and completely wrong, and something in Trey's expression told me that he knew that.

That he wasn't proud of what he was.

But that he couldn't stop it.

I knew that it was true. I couldn't just stop being a spy, either. I'd always be looking over my shoulder, thinking that I was seeing a tail. I'd always see people bump into each other and wonder if they had just made a brush pass or if it had really been an accident.

No, there was no way I could go back.

And it was like that for Trey.

"Gallagher Girl," he pleaded softly. "I understand if you never want to see me again. But please, help me."

Decisions, decisions. I could stand up, walk away, and never speak to Trey again. I could completely ignore him. But I knew that if I just left, he'd be haunting me in my dreams and in my every thought. I had gotten too close to him for my own good, and now I was paying for it. There was no way that I could just leave Trey behind and still keep a clear conscience.

"Trey, are they trying to kill you?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I just realized who they were today."

I inhaled deeply and rested my head in my hands.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I wouldn't blame you if you just walked away. I understand if you don't want any part of this."

Who in their right mind would want a part of that?

"Shh," I said, "I'm trying to come up with a plan."

I could hear the smile in his voice. "Thank you, Morgan. Thank you."

"You're not out of trouble," I warned him. I quickly scanned the area casually so as not to draw attention to myself. Suddenly, my eyes landed on the people coming into the food court and I gasped.

"Morgan?" Trey asked. "Morgan? You okay?"

I stood and grabbed his hand, pulling him along with me. "Come on," I said.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

His tails were following us, as I had known they would.

"We're going to trap your tails while avoiding another group of people."

"Who?" he asked, puzzled.

"My parents and baby siblings."


	8. Chapter 8

8.

"What's your name?" Trey asked. I'd never heard him use such a forceful voice before and it made me shudder. He was dangerous.

The woman that we had managed to capture in a janitorial closet was staring daggers at Trey. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she spat in a nasty, high voice. Her hair was dark, obviously dyed. She was pale-skinned and tall – almost six foot. She wore an arrogant look on her face and her onyx eyes were so cold that every time she glanced at me, I shivered.

"Yes," Trey said with a cold smile. "I would."

They had a staring contest and then Trey got frustrated. He stalked to her and struck her across the face before I knew what was happening. I jumped back in shock and gasped, but no one outside the door could hear it because the mall was so loud. Trey had actually _hit_ someone.

I stared at his face and was shocked by his expression. He looked truly heartless and menacing, so different from the hopeless boy I'd seen only twenty minutes prior. It had been a small thing to trap the woman in the closet while avoiding all security cameras. The other tails, though, wouldn't be as easy.

The woman spat blood out of her mouth and onto the ground. Trey reached for a rag and cleaned up the blood, then put the rag at the bottom of a trash can. "Trying to leave a trail for your buddies?"

I wouldn't have even thought about that. Trey was good. Well, maybe not good in a "do-the-right-thing" kind of way, but in a "he's-probably-the-best-spy-slash-assassin-I've-ever-known" kind of way. The look in the woman's eyes told me that she hated him for being good. She'd wanted to outsmart him.

He knelt down in front of her. "I remember you…..I think." He thought for a few moments and then his face lit up as he remembered. "Oh, yeah! You're Sasha, right?"

"Emily," she corrected, angry at him for messing up her name. Then, she realized her mistake and a whole different kind of anger took over. She was mad at Trey for outsmarting her, and even angrier at herself for making it so easy for him to do so. Her look was one of pure hatred.

What had he done, really? He'd said that he'd killed their leader, but who was "they"? Were they a drug group or terrorists? Did they plan on killing Trey to avenge their leader's death? How much danger was he really in? He didn't look too worried, but as a spy or an assassin, you needed to be calm, cool, and collected at all times; especially when interrogating someone that's part of a plot to kill you.

"Emily," Trey said with a smirk. He knew that he'd won and he knew that the lady didn't like it. She had to be at least fifteen years older than him, and yet he was treating her like a little kid. I guess he could get away with that, though, since he was so much better than her. "That's right. Lady with the children, right? Your daughter's the one with the curls, right? And your son…..how old is he now? He can't be more than two."

Trey sounded like he was making small talk, but the lady, Trey, and I all knew that there was a threat in those words. Her eyes grew wide; she wasn't even bothering to hide her fear. "He'll be two in four months. Please…they're not part of this."

I couldn't believe that Trey was threatening a little kid. How had I ever thought that he was a sweet guy? How had I ever fallen for him? _Because he's just being who he has to be_, a voice in the back of my head told me. _You'd be that way, too, if someone –or a group of someones- were trying to kill you_.

Would I? I wondered. Would I threaten a little kid just to get information or to scare someone? Could I ever be that…cruel? I couldn't see myself doing it. But the guy that I had thought I cared for was doing it right in front of me. I felt tears stinging my eyes.

"Who are you?" I asked suddenly.

Trey turned to face me, his expression suddenly soft and puzzled. "Morgan, are you okay?"

"Who are you, Trey?" I asked, choking on the unshed tears. "You're threatening little kids and…"

"That's who I have to be, Morgan," he said. "These people are after me and I want to know why!"

_I would too_. "It's not okay, Trey."

"Morgan, this isn't some game, okay? This is life and death. I'm sorry if Gallagher Academy doesn't prepare you for that, but Blackthorne does. I know what I'm doing, okay?"

That hurt me, even though spies are supposed to be tough. That really hurt me. Why? _Because you let him in. You let your guard down and let him manage to get past all of the carefully-built barriers. He got to you. And now you're paying for it._

"Do you?" I asked softly, wondering if he'd hear the double meaning behind my words.

He did. His expression was hurt. "Morgan, please. Don't do this right now."

Was he seriously hurt? Or was he just acting? I'd seen him be gentle and loving and I'd seen him be mean and vicious. Which was the real him? Or were they both the same person; they just appeared at different times? Kind of like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

"Trey," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady. "Who are you?"

Trey was about to say something, but Emily cut in from her place on the floor. "You didn't tell her?"

"Tell me what?" I asked, looking at Emily now.

Trey looked pained. "Morgan…"

"She doesn't know?" Emily asked, shocked.

_What don't I know?_


	9. Chapter 9

9.

"What don't I know, Trey?"

Trey was avoiding my eyes, choosing instead to fix a glare on Emily. She had a smug look, knowing that her kids were safe and that she'd gotten Trey back for outsmarting her.

"Trey," I repeated, desperately trying and failing to keep my voice even. Spies lie and spies keep secrets; I'd known that since I was four-years-old (maybe even earlier). My dad and mom had things that they couldn't tell me; things that they had to keep from me, and I was always okay with that. I always understood that, and it never bothered me.

So why did it bother me so much that Trey was keeping things from me? Lying to me. Deceiving me. Hurting me.

_He can't hurt you if you don't let him_.

That was true, I guess, but it was too late. I had let Trey get close to me and I was letting him hurt me because I didn't know how to kick him back out again. He was the one who'd seen me when I'd felt invisible, even to myself. He was the one that made me feel like I was worth anything in the world. But was I? Were all of those words and kisses and feelings false? What had his true motive been?

Emily was the one that spoke. "Do you know who he is, dearie?"

I shook my head. No. I had no idea who he really was. "All I know is his name," I replied, feeling like it was true.

Trey looked hurt.

"Well, it's true!" I snapped, feeling angry. "What do I really know about you, Trey, other than what you've told me? For all I know, you've been lying the whole time!"

He flinched. "Morgan, please…." Then he looked at Emily. "I know who you are."

"I know you, too," she said, that smug smile still in place on her face.

"It's not me."

"No," she agreed. "Not at all."

"I didn't contact anyone about this."

"That's why she got curious."

"So she sent you guys?"

"Yes."

"What's going on?" I interrupted, totally confused.

Trey looked at me, his face pained. "Morgan….."

"I'm not a little kid!" I cried. "You don't need to protect me, if that's even what you're trying to do. Trey, just tell me what the hell is going on!"

"I will," Emily volunteered, her smile becoming even more smug.

"No," Trey said, shooting a threatening glance at her. "You won't."

She looked at me with her dark eyes, and I knew she was telling the truth when she spoke. "Have you heard of the Circle of Cavan?"

I tried to think, but I couldn't remember ever hearing of it. Wait…..there was one time…..but I couldn't quite remember where I'd heard it before, or what I'd heard. It was obviously an organization of some kind. My parents, maybe? Yes, I remembered now, a conversation between my mother and father in the dead of night right before I first started attending Gallagher Academy.

"_Zach, what if the circle goes after Morgan?"_

"_They're long gone, Cammie," my father had comforted. "They won't go after Morgan."_

"_Can we ever be sure? They're still out there, Zach. You can't honestly believe that they're just gone."_

"_No," he had replied. "I just think that they've learned their lesson."_

"_Maybe." But my mother hadn't sounded convinced. _

The Circle of Cavan? "Who are they?"

"_We,_" she corrected, "Are-"

"Stop," Trey said fiercely. "Morgan, please, let me be the one to explain all this."

"You had your chance," I said, not tearing my gaze away from Emily, as if afraid that she'd disappear if I looked away.

She shot a smirk at Trey and then looked back at me and continued. "We were after your mother not too long ago."

"Why?"

"She had information we wanted."

"_Allegedly_ had information we wanted," Trey corrected with a pained expression. "It was never confirmed."

"No," Emily agreed. "Because we could never get a hold of her."

"Wait," I said, looking at Trey now. "_We?_"

He realized that he'd just let something slip and he said a string of cuss words in French. "Morgan….."

"You're part of an organization that tried to get my mother?"

"I wasn't part of it then!" he said back, begging me to understand.

"Now we're after you," Emily said quietly, for dramatic effect.

"M..me?" I stammered, completely surprised. "_Why?_ I'd never even heard of you guys before today! What did I-"

"Nothing," Emily said with a smile. "It's nothing you did. It's more of a revenge thing. You see, we could never get your mother. People were always guarding her and we just couldn't get her. So, we pretended to give up while secretly keeping an eye out. You were born; we waited. When the order was given, we sent Trey to see if he could….."

"I was a mission?" I said to Trey, my voice barely above a whisper. Tears stung my eyes before falling and my throat closed up, making it hard to breathe. He had really gotten to me, and I had let him in. I had never meant anything to him; I was just an assignment. All of those kisses and sweet words were a lie.

He looked like he was in so much pain, but I didn't believe that he was. He was just a good actor. "It was at first, Morgan. But then I just….you got to me and I….."

"They were following you to get to me," I realized.

The expression on his face told me that it was true. "Morgan, please…."

"No!" I yelled, tears falling even faster. "You lied. You hurt me and I let you. I thought you cared about me."

If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn that there were tears in his eyes. "Morgan, I was never going to turn you over. That's why these people were sent. To make sure that I was…"

"Why didn't you recognize them?" I demanded.

"The Circle operates in small groups," he said. "We don't know everyone that's in the circle. We just know if we ourselves a part of it."

"I'm leaving," I said softly.

"No, Morgan, it's not safe!" he said. "Those other two tails are out there…."

"Then I'll just have to be invisible," I whispered before walking out the door and into the mall crowd.


	10. Chapter 10

"Morgan, wait!"

I could hear Trey's voice behind me, calling out for me, but I didn't stop. I knew that if I turned to face him, I would lose what little control that I had over myself. His eyes would make me crumble; I just knew it. So, I forced myself to keep walking, while still maintaining a normal pace so as not to appear conspicuous. I weaved in and out of small groups walking together and went in and out of crowded stores, hoping to lose my tails. Yes, Trey now counted as a tail. As far as I was concerned, he was just a member of a group that was after me.

The mall was insanely busy; even more so than normal. I vaguely wondered why that was, but then I decided that I had a lot better things to worry about and waste my time thinking about (and besides, I should be thankful for the large crowd; it's a spy's favorite scenario). Trey, the Circle, my parents….the list seemed to just keep going on and on and on. I felt overwhelmed, but I knew that I had to continue walking, so I did. I kept my pace and my focus as I moved easily through the big crowd. I finally felt like I was in my element, big crowds. Easier to lose myself in.

And now, all I needed was to lose myself.

All I wanted was to disappear.

I was invisible.

Or so I thought.

"Morgan," a hand grabbed my arm. His touch felt so familiar and safe. _Of course he'd see me. He always sees me._

Because he's after me, I reminded myself, but I don't think that I was listening. Trey's face portrayed the pain that he was pretending to feel inside. His eyes were brighter than normal and his voice was soft, but honest. _No, not honest. He isn't honest. Don't trust him. He lied._

He pulled me off to the side so that the crowds wouldn't jostle us. I don't know why I allowed him to. He could have been pulling me out into the open so that the other tails could see me. He could have been trapping me. But I followed anyway. Call me stupid, because that's exactly what I called myself. _Get away from him, Stupid! Run! Do something! You can't trust him and you know it!_

Do I?

_**YES!**_

My two sides battled against each other until my head spun. Trey's voice brought me back. "Morgan?"

"What?" I tried to sound harsh, but I just sounded like I had a hangover or something.

"Morgan, you have to believe me….."

"No!" I said angrily. "I don't have to do _anything!_ And why should I believe you?"

His eyes were pleading with me to understand. "I was sent on that mission and then I actually met you and I just…..I couldn't turn you over. Morgan, I care about you so much and I think that maybe I-"

"Just stop," I said as forcefully as I could (which wasn't very much). My hands were shaking and I suddenly felt ice cold. People were milling about the mall on every side of me, talking and laughing. People's footsteps fell on the hard floor and music played from Hollister. But it was like I couldn't hear a thing, as if I'd suddenly gone deaf. All I could hear was the beating of my heart, unsteady.

"Morgan…." His voice was barely a whisper but I heard it.

"No, Trey," I said, my voice cracking. I took a step away from him and I watched the heartbreak in his eyes. Maybe he was telling the truth…_No! He was lying to you and you know it! He's just faking!_

Is he?

The tears in his eyes looked so real.

"You hurt me, Trey." I don't know why I decided to state the obvious. Maybe because I was hurting more than I'd ever hurt before and I just wanted to hold him accountable for my pain. Maybe I just wasn't thinking right. But I said it, and I watched as he drew in a shaky breath.

After a moment, he whispered. "I know, Morgan. And I'm so sorry. I really am."

I almost felt like believing him. But there was still that one little part of me that wouldn't yield. I shook my head slowly and I stepped back again. He took a step forward, "Morgan…"

"Morgan?"

That was a different voice.

I turned my head and saw my mother and father, each one holding a twin. Something inside of me screamed, "Busted!" but another side of me was too hurt to care. I felt numb inside.

"Morgan? Sweetheart?" Mom asked me, taking a step forward. "Are you okay?"

No, I'd never been less okay in my entire life. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Trey was still standing by me. He hadn't moved. "Morgan," he whispered. "Please, just…"

"No!" I said sharply, looking at him. "Just stop, okay? I can't believe I was ever so stupid!" I should have run a background check on him or something. Of course, it would have taken a while to hack all of the government systems, but if I had set my mind to it, I could have done it.

"Morgan…."

I turned and fled, not caring if I looked completely stupid to the civilians. All I knew was that I couldn't breathe and I just had to get out of there. "Morgan!" I heard someone –Trey, I think- call me, but I didn't slow down or stop. I just kept running.

I didn't know where I was going until I was already there. The woods where I'd first made out with Trey haunted me and comforted me all at the same time. I sank to the ground and sobbed, no longer caring.

_I thought he cared about me_.


	11. Chapter 11

11.

I had to go home sometime. I thought about just running away, but I had no plan, no access to money that couldn't be traced, none of my fake IDs, no clothes packed, and there were people after me. So, I made my way home as slowly as possible. As soon as I walked into the front door, I saw my mom and dad sitting on the couch. Neither of them was holding a baby, so I assumed that Rider and Josie were actually sleeping for once.

I shut the door and locked it, showing just how paranoid I was about the Circle. I didn't know anything about them other than what they'd told me, so I didn't want to take any chances. I turned back around and saw my parents both looking at me. My mother's face was concerned, my father's face holding a mixture of emotions. I couldn't move, but I wanted so badly to flee to my room.

The silence was hard to endure, but I felt frozen anyway so it didn't matter. I couldn't even open my mouth to begin to utter a single sound. I was completely frozen, helpless. My dad was the one who spoke first, his voice showing that he was forcing himself not to yell. "Where have you been?"

"I needed to be alone," I answered, surprising myself. My voice didn't sound at all shaky or afraid, just tired. I felt numb inside, though. Maybe the pain had also numbed my tears or the emotional section of my brain.

"We were so worried!" my father's voice raised only slightly. "Do you even understand how worried we were?"

"Yeah, right," I muttered, feeling the anger rise up in myself. I tried to hold it back, but with all the pain that I'd had, I just couldn't keep it in.

"Excuse me?" he replied, baffled. I had never talked to him like that before. Before Rider and Josie had been born, I had been the world's best child, even while I was a teenager. I never talked back or acted out. I loved and respected my parents and I knew that they cared for me just as much. We had a bond, a special bond, but Rider and Josie had ruined it.

"All you've cared about for the past five months have been Rider and Josie!" I said. "I don't even matter!" I felt tears in my eyes but I blinked them back. "They're all you see."

My mother spoke with tears in her own eyes that she didn't bother to blink back. "Sweetie, you know that's not true…"

"Yes, Mom, it is! I've been invisible in this house _all summer_!" I knew that I was about to break down, so I ran for the stairs.

"Morgan!" my dad called, but I didn't hear his footsteps coming after me. I went into my room and locked the door behind me before throwing myself onto my bed and sobbing into my pillows. Crying was a sign of weakness, but I really didn't care. I'd been strong for a lot of different people in a lot of different ways, and I deserved to have a weak moment.

I heard my door open and then close again. My mother sat beside me on the bed and began to rub my back like she always used to when I was upset or sick. I would never _ever_ admit it, but I've always liked when she did that; it was always comforting to me. Except then.

I cried some more until finally no more tears came. I trembled for a while and then even that stopped, leaving me lying there completely exhausted. I felt my body shutting down and the last thing that I remembered was my mother pulling off my shoes and socks and laying my covers over me.

I woke up a little bit later and found a bowl of dry cereal on my bedside table. Cheerios. I ate them all and then went down to the kitchen to put the empty bowl in the dishwasher. My mother was awake at the kitchen table, though it was 3:43 am. She wasn't holding a baby, but the half-empty bottle on the table told me that she had been. Her hair was in a ponytail like mine and she wore pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt that probably belonged to Dad. She looked at me as I came in and gave me a sad smile, "How are you, Sweetie?"

I walked to the dishwasher and put my bowl inside. "I'm okay, I guess."

"You don't have to lie to me," she replied softly.

_How did mothers always know?_ "I know."

"Take a seat."

I did.

She gave me a sad smile. "So who's this boy?"

Surprisingly, I didn't blush. Instead, I just felt the pain. "Nobody."

"Seemed like somebody," she said.

I just shrugged and traced my finger along the fake wood grains of our table. The surface was smooth and cool under my finger.

"Do you love him?" she asked.

I had to look up and at her face before I could tell if she was serious. She was. I decided not to lie; my heart just wasn't in it. "I thought that maybe I was falling for him, but now…I'm just not sure. About anything."

"Love is confusing," she said in a voice that sounded like she was just agreeing with me about the weather.

"I don't love him, Mom," I told her, feeling a pang in my chest.

She gave me a smile that was both sad and knowing. She reached over and put her warm hand on my cold one. "If that were true, you wouldn't be so hurt by him."

She stood up and left the room, knowing that I needed time to process her words.

_If that were true, you wouldn't be so hurt by him_.

I love Trey.


	12. Chapter 12

12.

_Hush, little baby, don't say a word,  
Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird._

If that mockingbird don't sing,  
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

If that diamond ring turns to brass,  
Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass.

If that looking glass gets broke,  
Mama's gonna buy you a Billy-goat.

If that Billy-goat won't pull,  
Mama's gonna buy you a cart and bull.

If that cart and bull turns over,  
Mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover.

If that dog named Rover won't bark,  
Mama's gonna buy you a horse and cart.

If that horse and cart falls down,  
You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town.

Such a nonsense song, when you think about it. I mean, why in the world would you buy a baby a mockingbird or a cart and bull? Wouldn't that be, like, a major safety hazard or something? Wouldn't you be afraid that the bull would attack the little child? I know that I would.

And what's up with the mother's attitude? I'm not talking about a snooty, 'I'm-better-than-everyone' kind of attitude, I'm talking about her philosophy. _To get my baby to shut the hell up, I'm just going to keep buying it things_. There's a good way to spoil and ruin your kid for life.

My mother used to sing me to sleep every night. Even though she didn't have to best voice in the world, it wasn't horrible either. It was nice and soft, middle pitched. _Hush Little Baby_ had been one of my favorite songs, and she had been talked into singing it at least four times a week, often more than that. I could never figure out why I loved the song so much. Maybe it was just because I had grown up hearing it and had learned to like it. Maybe it was because I liked the deeper meaning.

Another of my favorite songs was:

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine;_

_You make me happy, when skies are gray._

_You'll never know, dear, how much I love you;_

_Please don't take my sunshine away._

_The other night, dear, while I lay sleeping;_

_I dreamt I held you in my arms._

_When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken._

_So I hung my head and cried._

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine;_

_You make me happy, when skies are gray._

_You'll never know, dear, how much I love you;_

_Please don't take my sunshine away._

I had loved that song especially when my dad would sing it. He didn't like to sing, but I always thought that he was really good at it. His voice was smooth and pleasant, and I always begged him to keep singing. Usually, he did. Because I was his little princess and he would have done anything in the world for me.

He still would, I bet.

But, for the days following my mall incident with Trey and the Circle (whom I had yet to research, by the way), I stayed in my room. I listened to music on my iPod and read books that I'd already read at least twenty times. I watched a little bit of TV, but not much; because most TV shows showed some couple being romantic and I couldn't handle that, not with my newfound realization that I loved Trey, even though he had hurt me.

My mother brought me food, never a lot because the first time that she had brought me a full plate, I had only eaten about a quarter of it. I just didn't really have an appetite. From then on, she only brought me a bowl of Cheerios, some sliced fruit, or a tiny bit of whatever the family was having for supper.

Rider and Josie were sleeping more and more now, and it was a relief to not have to listen to them crying so much anymore. My favorite part of the day –the only part that I could honestly say that I looked forward to- was when my mother came in to sing me to sleep, just like she had done when I was little. Sure, it could be considered childish, but I liked the comfort that it brought me.

She sang that night:

"_Taba naba naba norem  
Tugi penai siri  
Dinghy e naba we  
Miko keimi  
Sere re naba we  
Taba naba norem  
Style."_

It was a song that –as I'm sure you gathered- was in a different language. Of course, being from Gallagher Academy where they teach us many different languages, I could understand.

I fell asleep peacefully.

At two am, I woke up and knew that I would have trouble getting back to sleep if I didn't go get some tea. So, I slipped into socks to keep my feet warm and went downstairs. I poured the water and set it on to boil. Call me a bad spy, because I never even knew my dad was there until I heard him say, "Great to finally see you out and about."

I jumped, but didn't spill or break anything. "Oh," I replied as I turned up the heat.

"Morgan." My dad's voice was the kind that said _Look at me,_ so I did. He looked sad, in a way, but also like he understood. "Your mother told me about this guy…Trevor."

I felt like rolling my eyes, but I also felt the dull pain inside of me. "His name's Trey."

"Yeah, Trey," my dad said. I had told my mom some things, but not everything about Trey. Mostly just that he attended Blackthorne and some stories of us at the mall.

"What about him?" I asked. If we were going to have a discussion with Trey, I would rather get it over with as soon as possible.

My dad studied me closely. "Do you really love him?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "My little princess…"

"I'm not a princess," I said honestly, turning to put the tea in the way that Madame Dabney had taught. "I'm strong, Dad. I'm a spy, I'm dangerous, I'm…" _Not good enough_.

"I know," he said softly. Then, I heard his chair move as he stood up and I heard his footsteps head my way. He put his empty coffee cup in the dishwasher and looked at me with the bright green eyes that he'd passed onto me. His look and voice were soft. "But no matter what happens, you'll always be a princess to me. You'll always be my little princess."

I couldn't help it; I ran right into my dad's arms, beginning to cry like a little kid. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Princess," he whispered before kissing the top of my head.


	13. Chapter 13

13.

"Dad?"

He turned, holding a sleeping Josie in his arms. My little sister was wrapped up tight in a fuzzy pink blanket and she wore her blue one piece. I could see a tuft of light hair and a glimpse of her tiny face. She was so innocent and perfect…how could I have ever not liked her?

"Morgan?" my dad asked softly so as not to wake Josie. "You okay, Princess?"

"No," I whispered. "We need to talk."

He looked like he was searching for answers on my face, but I knew that he was never going to find them. I was completely composed and there was no way that I was giving anything away. "Okay," he said slowly. "Is it about Trevor?"

"Trey, Dad," I corrected, rolling my eyes. "And sort of."

"Sort of?" he questioned.

I shrugged and moved to sit down on the couch. My dad sat in the recliner beside me, looking at me and still searching for answers. Waiting for me to talk. He had no idea how badly he was going to wish that we didn't have to talk. "Dad, are you an assassin?"

He almost dropped Josie –not even kidding- but he somehow managed to keep her in his arms, although she woke up and began to cry, soft at first but then louder. My dad didn't seem to notice. His eyes were locked with mine, his mouth still open in shock. I had caught him off guard and in a family of spies, that's not an easy thing to do. Josie was still crying so I held out my arms. "Give her to me."

My dad obediently handed my little sister over and I held her gently in my arms and began to sing.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

You make me happy, when skies are gray.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away.

The other night, dear, while I lay sleeping,

I dreamt I held you in my arms.

When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken.

So I hung my head and cried.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

You make me happy, when skies are gray.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away."

Josie drifted off as I sang and I couldn't help but wonder if that made her like me. Hearing a song made us feel safe. She also kind of looked like me, I thought, especially in the facial area. I truly felt like we were sisters, for the first time since she'd been born. It was a heartfelt moment that ended when my dad spoke up. I'd actually forgotten he was there, honestly, until he spoke in a careful voice.

"Why do you think that, Morgan?"

"Trey goes to Blackthorne," I said softly, not looking at him. Instead, I was looking down at the sweet face of my little sister. "He's an assassin. You went to Blackthorne, so why wouldn't you be an assassin, too?"

He sighed, "Morgan…"

"So it's true?" Now I was looking at him. His expression was pained, telling me that he wasn't happy or proud of what he had to admit.

"Yes."

I'd known that there was a ninety-nine-point-nine percent chance that he was an assassin. That he'd been lying to me more than he should have had to. That he was keeping more from me than I ever would have thought that he could. But part of me hadn't wanted to let go of that point-one percent that it wasn't true. That he was really just a spy as I'd originally thought. And I hated to see that little sliver of hope get crushed under the big feet of the truth.

The truth hurts. "Does Mom know?"

"Yes."

"She knows about Blackthorne?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking thirty years older than he was. It was sort of scary. I'd always considered my father invincible. "I didn't want you to see me that way, Morgan. It was hard for me to keep that from you –and lie and say that I was a spy- but I just couldn't bear the thought of telling you and having you turn away from me and hate me."

He didn't use the lame excuse that he didn't think I could handle it. He didn't talk about how dangerous it would be for me to know. He didn't deny that he'd ever really lied. He'd told me the truth: that he couldn't stand to ruin the way that I saw him; the way that he wanted me to see him. He wanted to let me think that my father saved the world –and maybe he still did, by killing those people-, he didn't want me to think that he was a horrible person. He wanted me to still love him.

I looked down at Josie and wondered how she would feel if she grew up knowing that her father was an assassin. Would he lie to her, too? Probably. But I gave it some thought and decided that if _I_ were an assassin, I wouldn't want the people that I love to know. Maybe that just shows how much I'm like my dad.

"Dad," I said softly. "I'll _always_ love you, no matter what. I'm not going to hate you."

He smiled and I could've sworn tears shone in his eyes. "You have no idea how much those words mean to me."

I smiled and then my expression became serious again. "Do you know anything about the Circle of Cavan?"

His mouth fell open again and he demanded, "Why?" in a panicked voice.

"They're after me."


	14. Chapter 14

14.

I told my father everything that had happened with Trey, starting at the very beginning. He made weird faces when I mentioned our kisses and when I mentioned the hickey, he literally jumped up and said, "He did _what_ to you?"

I rolled my eyes impatiently. "Dad, seriously. Are you saying that you never gave Mom a hickey?"

He cringed. "That's totally different. You're my little girl."

I rolled my eyes.

"Anyway," he said. "Continue."

I continued my story and he listened intently, only interrupting when he had a question. Finally, he held his arms out and I placed the sleeping Josie in them. "Hold on one sec," he said before heading for his bedroom. I waited on the couch, feeling more nervous than I had ever felt in my entire life. I didn't really know why I was nervous, but I bet that it had something to do with the fact that my dad had seemed so scared when I'd mentioned the Circle. My fears were confirmed: they were dangerous. But I still didn't know why they were after me; not really. Trey had said that it was a revenge kind of thing because my mother had once had information that they had wanted, but they could never get to her. What information could she have possibly said that would have been so important that it would call for revenge? _Revenge is a dish best served cold_, I'd heard somewhere before. How had she avoided them? Who were they, really? How had Trey gotten mixed in with them?

My father came out with my mother, who sat on the couch with me. My father took his place in the recliner again and nodded at me. "Tell the story again, Morgan," my father instructed. I took a deep breath and began again. My mother was a lot more patient than my father, and she didn't even bat an eye when I told her about the kisses and the hickey. She asked questions, most of them the same ones that my father had asked. I could tell by the look on her face that the circle coming after me was a very, _very_ bad thing. I just didn't know why yet. My mother and father were both trying to control their expressions, but the looks that they passed between them told me that this wasn't good. At all. It was very, _very_ bad.

I finished my story and then there was about a minute of silence. Finally, I said, "Who are they? Why did they want you?"

My mother replied in a forced voice, "They've been around just as long as Gillian Gallagher. They wanted me because they believed that my father had given me information that they wanted."

"What information?"

She sighed. "I don't know, and I never found out. I have no idea what they were looking for, but they never got it. They never got me."

"Why not?" I asked. "They seemed…good. Really good."

"We were better," my dad said with his signature smirk.

"There's a bigger story," I said, knowing that it was true. "I want to hear it. I _deserve_ to hear it."

They knew it was true. "Morgan…" my dad said.

"Dad, I need to know!" I said. "They're after _me!_ They don't want Mom anymore, they want _me_. Whatever information you had, they don't need it or they don't want it anymore. All they want is revenge." They were cold people.

My dad started to say something else, but my mom shook her head, stopping him. "She deserves to know." He stared at her for a full five seconds before sighing and nodding. My mother looked at me, her expression sad, and then she told me the entire story. I listened just as patiently and intently as she had, only interrupting when I had to ask a question or when I wanted something clarified. She talked for an hour and a half, and yet I still felt like she could have said a lot more. She'd said everything that I needed to know, though, so I was satisfied for the time being.

"Why now?" I asked the question that everyone was thinking. Why would they choose now to come after me? Why not when I hadn't had any training yet, or when I was just starting at Gallagher? Why did they wait?

"Because they wanted a challenge," my father muttered and I knew that he was right. They hadn't wanted it to be easy. They had wanted to feel satisfied about their job well done, and they couldn't do that if I hadn't been trained. It would have been far too easy then.

I shuddered. "So what do we-"

A knock on the door cut me off. We all exchanged a confused look, not knowing who that could be.

"I'll get it," my mother said, and she stood to go to the door.

A few seconds later, I heard, "Morgan."

My head jerked up. I knew that voice. Trey.

"Trey?" I jumped up and whirled around and sure enough, Trey was standing there. He wore a red Aeropostale shirt, jeans, and black Nikes. His hair was messy in all the right places, as usual, and his blue eyes seemed darker than normal. From lack of sleep, maybe? He had on a tan jacket, and he looked…miserable.

"Morgan," he began, but my dad stopped him by jumping up and saying, "How dare you come here!"

Trey's gaze shifted to my dad, taking in everything from the anger in his eyes to the sharpness in his voice.

"After what you did to Morgan, you just think that you can waltz in here and ask her to forgive you? Do you have any idea-"

"Dad," I whispered, but he didn't seem to hear me.

"Did the Circle send you?"

Trey recoiled as if he'd been shocked. He looked hurt. "No, I don't-"

"And you expect us to believe that? I-"

My dad was still yelling, but I couldn't hear a sound. All I saw was Trey, looking so hurt that I needed to protect him. I needed to feel his arms around me and his lips on mine. I needed to smell his cologne. I needed him to flash me his cocky smile. I needed to protect him. I stepped between my dad and Trey. "Dad, stop."

My dad looked completely shocked.

I turned to Trey and held out my hand. "Come on, you have a lot of explaining to do."


	15. Chapter 15

15.

"That still doesn't explain _why_," I said, running a hand over the back of a porch chair. I had insisted on going outside to talk to Trey, seeing as how Mom and Dad were both government operatives and they probably had bugs _somewhere_ in the house. (But not in my room because I totally do a sweep once every morning. What kind of spy would I be if I didn't? A very sloppy one.) Outside wasn't _completely_ out of the spy-free zone, but it would have to do. I pulled Trey's jacket tighter around myself as a gentle breeze blew by. It wasn't cold outside –not by a long shot- but I was chilled for a very different reason.

Trey looked at me with such intensity that I wanted to look away, but my eyes were locked with his by an almost tangible force. "Morgan, this wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to find you, get you to trust me, and bring you in."

"So why are we standing here?" I asked. "Why am I not in some secret Circle headquarters?"

He looked as if the very thought of that repulsed him. His voice was soft and gentle, his eyes pleading as he said, "Because I fell in love with you. It wasn't supposed to happen, but it did. Somehow, you just enchanted me and I knew that I would never be able to turn you in. I was planning to tell the Circle that their intel had been wrong, but then…"

"They showed up," I finished for him.

He nodded solemnly. "Yeah, they did. I hadn't called in for a while and I guess they got worried. I had no idea who those people were at first, Morgan, I swear. I just knew that they were following me."

I believed him. I knew that he could have been lying, but I seriously doubted that he was. I just knew. "How did you remember Emily's children?"

He didn't miss a beat. "I saw her once, talking to another member of the Circle that I knew. Her children were with her."

"You threatened her children."

"She was threatening you," he shot back, but not in a mean way. He was just reminding me. "I did what I had to do to get information."

A thought occurred to me, later than it should have. "Where is Emily now? And the other tails?"

He looked down at his Nikes and then back up at me. I could sense his hesitation. "They're…gone."

Gone. Gone could mean a lot of different things, but I picked up the subtle hint in his voice. They weren't coming back. "You killed them."

He gave me a pained look. "Yes."

Maybe that should have bothered me. Maybe I should have run back into the house screaming and locked the door behind me. Maybe I should have abandoned all hope in Trey. Maybe I should have told myself that I never loved him, that it was just an infatuation. Maybe I should have done anything else but what I did, which is ask, "Why are you here, Trey?"

He looked surprised himself. As if he'd thought I would run away from him (which he probably had), because I should have. "To warn you. To protect you. Or, if you won't let me do that, to at least tell you that I love you. No, I didn't love you at first, but I do now, and I'll do anything to prove that."

"Why did you join the Circle?"

He looked ashamed. "I was young and stupid…."

Before he could continue, I heard my dad say, "You're _still_ young and stupid."

Trey and I both glanced at the back door, where my dad was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorjamb. How long had he been there? No idea. How had he opened the door without alerting us? No idea. He was good. He'd always been good. He was giving Trey a look that dared him to do something wrong.

"Dad," I said, not sure if I was teasing. "It's not polite to eavesdrop."

But what can you expect, really, in a family of spies?

My dad didn't move his eyes from Trey. "Why don't you two come inside?"

Trey and I obediently went through the door and my dad closed and locked it behind us.

"I just turned the security system on," my mom said as she entered the room. "No one in or out."

My dad didn't look at all happy about the fact that his daughter's boyfriend was going to be spending the night. My mother, however, smiled at Trey and said, "You can stay in the guest room tonight."

"No," my dad objected, but my mom cut him off. "We _appreciate_ you _keeping Morgan safe_," she said pointedly, probably more to my dad than to Trey.

"Anytime," Trey said, his eyes locking with mine as he gave me a small cocky smile. It looked different than normal, lacking slightly in confidence, but it was still a cocky smile, still Trey.

I smiled back. My dad saw this exchange and looked at my mom as if to say, _See? He's just going to try to sleep with her!_ But she gave him a stern look and he mumbled, "I'm going to take a shower."

As soon as he was around the corner, my mom gave us a sad smile. "We're going to bed, kids. Stay up as late as you want."

We were going to have trouble sleeping, anyway, as my mom probably suspected. She left in the same direction as my dad and I turned to Trey. "What's the Circle going to do now?" Three of their members were dead.

He sighed, "I don't know. It won't be long until they go looking for those three and when they find the bodies…" he sighed again. "They'll know it was me. I'm officially out of the loop."

"What does that mean?" I asked, hearing something hidden in his voice.

He looked at me with tired eyes. "It means they're after both of us now."


	16. Chapter 16

16.

I couldn't sleep.

Trey's arms –one around my waist and the other under my head- were warm and secure, but I still couldn't fall asleep. I could hear his steady breathing, though, and I knew that he was asleep. But he deserved to sleep. He'd single-handedly caught and killed three people whose job it had been to catch and kill _me_. (Well, technically I had helped him catch one of those, but I'd had no hand in killing her.) I felt like I owed him so much more than just sharing my house and my room with him. And I knew that I did owe him more; my life. He'd known that killing those three people would mean that the Circle would come after him, but he'd done it for me. He'd done it to protect me. Because he loved me.

And I loved him, too.

I found something comforting in the feel of his body against mine. I breathed in the smell of his cologne and tried to trap it in my nasal passages forever. I ran my fingers lightly over his biceps and wondered how in the world all of this had happened. My junior year at Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women hadn't ended that long ago. I never would have thought that over the summer I would be targeted by a group I hadn't even known existed and fallen in love with a really sweet knight in shining armor.

Sure, his armor isn't gleaming, but it's sill there. He saved me when he didn't have to. That has to count for something, right?

"Morgan?" his eyes were still closed, his breath warm on my face. "What's wrong?"

It didn't take a genius to know that something was wrong. A group of horrible people wanted to kidnap me for revenge against my mother. I had no idea how I was going to hide from those people forever. I was in danger. But he wanted to know exactly which part I was thinking about. "Everything," I whispered, and it was the truth. Everything was turned upside down.

His arms tightened around me and I nuzzled into his strong chest, letting his warmth envelope me. "I _won't_ let them get you, Morgan." It was a vow.

"I know." He'd already killed three of their people. I had no doubt that he'd do whatever it took to keep me safe.

"Then what are your doubts about?"

"Am I putting my family in danger?" I asked.

"Your mom's the reason that they're after you in the first place, Morgan. You were in danger before you were even born. None of this is even your fault."

"Then why do I feel so guilty?" I wondered aloud. I felt horrible, like I was going to someday be the reason that the Circle would come after my parents or maybe Rider and Josie. I had made them mad by escaping them, just like my mom had done. They wouldn't stop now.

"Because that's who you are," he answered.

It was so true. I was one of those people that would always care about my family; always have a need to protect them. I'm a lover and I'll gladly fight for what (and who) I love. It's the kind of person that I've always been and the kind of person that I'll always be.

"What's Blackthorne like?" I asked. I needed to distract myself by talking about something else, anything else.

He didn't ask questions. Maybe he knew. "It's cold," he said. "It's dark and mysterious, just like we're supposed to be. They teach stuff like torture and interrogation techniques and we learn how to shoot firearms of all different types in seventh grade. The food isn't bad, but it isn't great, either. Every morning, we're expected to be up and ready by 5 am. There's a room inspection every morning and if your whole room isn't completely spotless, you and your roommates get lashes, usually five. The classes are intense; they expect perfection and nothing less. We have guard towers around our grounds, with security cameras, trip wires, and motion sensors on the ground so we don't try to escape. But no one ever has tried; no one has anywhere to go. To the outside world, it's a detention sitter for juvenile delinquents."

"How did you learn to smile?" I asked.

He exhaled a half laugh. "You know, it only sounds bad because you grew up in a different environment."

That was true. If I had grown up with Trey's kind of life, it would have been perfectly normal to me. I wouldn't be surprised at all. But I was. "Still. Do you have any fun there?"

"Workouts and evening runs are considered fun," he answered. "And I guess they are. Working out always helps me keep my mind off of things."

"Is that where they recruited you?" I asked.

"Yes."

"So my dad…."

"He's not a member of the Circle," Trey said.

"I know, but…."

"Yes," Trey read my mind, "they probably tried to recruit him while he was at Blackthorne."

"Wow," I said, breathless. My world was spinning and I clutched at Trey's shirt, needing something to hold on to.

"Easy, Morgan," Trey whispered into my hair. "It's okay."

But everything was clearly _not_ okay. I was being hunted by a very scary and very powerful group. I was going to have to figure out a way to hide from them. But how could I do that when I didn't even know all of their members? I hadn't even known that Trey was a member.

But then, Trey kissed me and I realized what he meant. He didn't mean that the situation outside was okay, because that's a flat-out lie. It wasn't okay. But he was talking about us being together. It was okay while we were with each other.

And I realized as I kissed him back that he was right.


	17. Chapter 17

17.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked the next day at the breakfast table.

"We could go to a safe house…." My mom contemplated.

My dad shrugged. "That's one option."

"We can keep her safe, Zach," my mom said sternly, as if she thought that he was implying that he didn't think they were capable of keeping me safe.

He shook his head. "I know. But, Cammie, we have two more kids to worry about."

My mom's expression changed to understanding. She knew that it would be dangerous to run with the twins. They would definitely slow us down and they would make it a lot harder to hide. My mom sighed, frustrated. "But they know where she lives! They can get to her, Zach; it's only a matter of time! Our security system isn't enough to keep them out!" She considered her words and looked at Trey. "Is it?" 

Trey looked up from his plate of half-eaten waffles and shook his head solemnly. "No."

My dad sighed and looked at him. "You know, they'll be after you, too now."

Trey cut another piece off of his waffle and drug it through syrup. "Yeah, I know."

My dad sighed. "Well, you know them better than we do. What do you think they'll do now?"

"They'll be looking for the bodies now," Trey said. "I hid them really well, but they'll still be able to find them. I didn't exactly have the greatest supplies to work with. And I was in a crowded mall and lucky that I even got out with three bodies at all."

"How _did_ you get out?" I wondered.

The smallest of smiles appeared on his face. "Janitorial cart."

I smiled. "Nice."

He shrugged.

My dad asked, "So once they find the bodies, then what?"

"Well, they'll only send one person to investigate. Normally, I'd say we should intercept the person, but I have no idea who it would be or what they would look like. The Circle operates in small groups and I doubt that they would send someone that I know."

My dad nodded. "So, we need to get Morgan out of here as fast as we possibly can."

Trey nodded. "That would be best."

"Your mom?" Zach asked.

"I don't want to drag my mother into this, Zach. She's getting old and…."

My dad nodded. "What about Bex and Grant?"

"They just had their first child, Zach. We can't do that to them. What about Abby and Solomon?"

Zach shook his head. "Solomon told me that he and Abby were going on a mission. I doubt that they're back yet."

"Liz and Jonas are in the Bahamas," my mom muttered aloud. "I suppose that I could get in contact with another Gallagher Girl…"

"How long would that take?" I asked. Gallagher had alumni all over the world. How would we pick one?

My mom looked worried. "I'm not exactly sure…."

"I can take her," Trey said softly. He looked at me, his eyes fierce. "We can run."

Before I could say anything, my dad said, "No," in a dangerous voice. "I still don't trust you, and I don't care if my daughter does. She's young. You can say that you love her and she'll fall over you again but I'm not buying it." He narrowed his eyes. "Because I'm not stupid. So no. No way in hell."

Trey didn't look surprised. "Sir, I understand that I hurt her, but I swear to you, I never wanted to. Yes, when I first met her, it was a mission. I was supposed to find her, get her to trust me, and bring her in. But then, I got to know her and she just got to me and….and then it wasn't a mission anymore."

"If you think that I'm going to let you-"

"Zach," my mom interrupted. "Look at his eyes. He's not lying."

And he wasn't. But I didn't even have to look into his eyes. I knew. I've seen Trey happy, cocky, fierce, and even sorry. But I'd never seen him look so vulnerable. I knew that spies were never supposed to show weakness, but Trey was clearly showing that I was his. And people – especially spies – would do anything to protect their weakness. Trey would do anything to protect me.

My dad seemed to be having an internal battle. Trey held his gaze, waiting. I didn't realize that I was holding my breath until Trey – without looking away from my dad – said, "Breathe, Morgan."

I did and it made my chest hurt. My dad finally looked at me. "What do you think?"

"I'm young, remember?" It wasn't mean. I wasn't being a brat. I was reminding him that I'd trusted Trey once before and had been wrong. But, I made sure to communicate with him that I trusted Trey now. But, it was ultimately up to him.

He sighed and winced before he asked, "Do you love him?"

I looked at Trey in his wrinkled Hollister shirt and jeans. His hair was bedraggled, but still cute and he looked tired, probably because he stayed up all night, watching over me and making sure that the Circle didn't get me. How could I not?

"Yes."

My mom gave me a smile that said _I knew it_. I gave her a small smile in return. Trey reached over and took my hand, our fingers intertwining automatically. My dad looked at our intertwined hands, sighed, and looked at Trey. "If you _ever_ do _anything_ to hurt her, I will hunt you down and make sure that you pay."

"I'll help you dig the grave," Trey said softly.

It would have been funny if he hadn't said it in such a serious way. It was sweet and I smiled at him.

My dad sighed, "So, what's the plan now?"

"We run," I said, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Do you have a place in mind?" my dad asked.

Trey looked up and the corner of his mouth pulled up into a smile. "Yeah, I do."


	18. Chapter 18

18.

I folded yet another shirt and placed it into one of the four open duffel bags on my bed. I was trying to be organized with my packing, but I had never really been an organized kind of person, so my efforts were futile. It wouldn't really matter, though. When Trey and I got to the safe house, I'd just have to unpack again.

Trey and I.

At a safe house.

Alone.

For who knows how long.

The thought made me both nervous and excited for reasons that I couldn't even begin to fathom. With a sigh, I zipped up the three full bags and walked around my room, trying to decide what else I needed to pack into the half full fourth bag. I glanced at the Winnie the Pooh book that I'd had since I was born and the relic that my dad had brought back from India for me. Those things would stay in my real room, obviously, because I couldn't stand the thought of them getting damaged. They were childhood treasures. Treasures that I wouldn't miss until I was gone. Treasures that I hadn't given a second glance in a while, but that I now found myself unable to look away from. I sank onto my bed with a sigh, trying to force myself to think about what else I could possibly need at a safe house. Nothing came to mind, though, and I sighed in frustration.

"Having second thoughts?"

I jumped off of the bed and spotted my mom standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and a tight smile on her face. She'd been crying; I could tell, even though she had clearly tried to cover it up. I felt bad for having to hurt her, but even she had admitted that Trey's plan was a good idea. I wished that she could come, too, but someone had to look after Rider and Josie, and that was definitely a two-person job.

"No."

Her hair was pulled into a messy bun while mine was straightened, smooth and glossy. She didn't have a single trace of makeup on but I did. She wore sweatpants and a T-shirt and I wore jeans and a green blouse. She was barefoot; I wore a pair of really cute silver flats. She was preparing to be left behind and I was preparing to leave her behind. As I looked into her sad eyes, I realized that neither of us was particularly happy with the deal, but she was worse off. She was my mother, made to worry about me every second that I'm not in her sight. She wanted to magically make everything all better, but she couldn't and she knew that. And it killed her.

"Good," she said. "Almost done packing?"

I glanced at the fourth bag, still half full. "Umm…."

She smiled. "Feel like you're forgetting something?"

How did she know? "Yeah, a little bit."

Suddenly, she pulled me into a hug. "I need to hear you say it."

"Say what?" I asked. I was confused, but I hugged her back anyway.

"That you'll be safe with Trey. That he won't try to…"

"Mom," I said softly, but firmly. "I'll be _perfectly_ safe with Trey."

She pulled away from me and looked at me with a smile that was both sad and knowing. "You love him."

It wasn't a question, so I didn't give an answer. "Is Dad still upset?" Dad had been the last one to agree with the plan. He kept coming up with plausible problems and Trey kept giving solutions until my dad had finally given in, scowling the entire time.

"He just doesn't want you with a boy," my mom said, smiling as she stroked my hair. "He knows that it's a good plan."

"But he still doesn't like it," I said.

My mom opened her mouth to speak, but another voice said, "No, he doesn't."

My dad stood in the doorway now, his face expressionless. He hadn't gotten much sleep, I noticed, and he wore a T-shirt, jeans, and his hair was extremely bedraggled. He wasn't happy about turning his daughter over to another guy. Because no guy would ever be good enough for me or some other dad crap like that.

"Hey, Daddy."

He gave me a small smile and stepped into my room to hug me. "Hey, Princess."

"You gonna be okay here with just two crying babies and Mom's cooking?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm right here," my mom protested.

My dad chuckled. "I think I'll make it. Of course, I'd much rather be slummin' it in a safe house with the youth of the clandestine services, but…I'll take it." I could tell that he wasn't happy with the arrangement. He wanted to be in the action.

It was quiet for a moment and then my mom stepped forward and kissed my forehead. "I love you."

"Love you, too, Mom," I replied, thinking and forcing myself not to cry. She was tearful, though, as she left my room.

My dad sighed. "I still don't like this Trevor guy."

"His name's Trey, Dad."

"Oh, well," my dad said carelessly. "No matter what his name is, I won't like him."

"Because he's with me?"

My dad flinched. "Don't use terms like that. It's so-"

"Dad," I cut in. "We haven't…"

"Really?" He looked surprised.

I shook my head.

"Oh," my dad said, clearly shocked. "Well, then, that's…I like him a little more now, I guess. But still not very much. He just rose above pond scum on my list. But only a centimeter over."

"Wow," I said sarcastically. "A centimeter."

"At least it's not a millimeter."

I laughed and then grew serious. "I love you, Dad."

He pulled me into a hug. "I love you, too."

"Morgan?"

I pulled away from my Dad and faced Trey, who was wearing a white button down shirt and jeans. Ready for a journey. With me. I took a deep breath. "Yeah?"

He gave me a small smile. "Ready?"

I lifted my chin a fraction of an inch higher. "Absolutely."


	19. Chapter 19

19.

I woke up and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. The glowing red numbers told me that it wasn't even six o' clock yet. Three months in hiding and I still hadn't learned to sleep in. I remembered the phone call from my parents the previous night and smiled, remembering the funny little stories they had told about Rider and Josie. But, I also remembered their worried, anxious voices and my heart sank a little bit. I didn't like them having to worry about me. But, I knew that they would always worry about me, no matter what. Especially since no one was any closer to catching the Circle, despite Trey's best efforts to help.

Trey.

I rolled over but, of course, Trey's side of the bed was empty. Somehow, he was always up before me, already showered and dressed for the day. When my dad had found out that there was just one bedroom in the safe house, he had said, "That boy is sleeping on the couch, right?"

"Of course," I had lied, as spies often do. I don't think he was fully convinced, though, which only made him more determined to call as often as he possibly could.

I got up and walked into the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. My hair was messed up as it was after a long sleep and I raked my fingers through it before turning on the shower. After a ten minute shower, I dried myself off and put on black Soffee shorts and a yellow tank top. After my hair had towel-dried for a few minutes while I applied light makeup, I let it loose and let it scrunch naturally.

Trey was in the kitchen, seated at the small round table. He was reading a paper, a half-full cup of coffee in front of him. He wore a blue polo, jeans, and Nikes, his dark hair messy and cute as always. He didn't look up when I came in, but I knew that he knew I was there. Spies were just good like that. He could probably smell me or even just sense me.

I walked over to the counter and poured myself a cup of coffee. But, as I was reaching for the sugar, a strange feeling shot through me. I wasn't sure what it was, but I tensed uncertainly, my hand hovering an inch from the sugar. Trey's arms were around me in an instant. I hadn't heard him come up, but I was glad that he was there. "What is it?" he whispered softly, yet urgently.

"I don't know," I said. "Just me being paranoid again." There had been about fifteen previous incidents in which I had thought someone had been watching me, but no one was ever there. Trey said that it was understandable to be paranoid when the world's most dangerous group was after you. I agreed. What did the Circle want to do with me?

Trey kissed my neck and then my cheek. "Are you particularly jumpy for any reason?"

I remembered the previous night and fought the blush that wanted to appear on my face and neck. "Absolutely not."

"So, nothing of importance has happened lately?"

"Not at all."

"Hmm."

I added sugar to my coffee and was about to ask Trey to hand me the milk when I got that feeling again. Trey felt me tense up and said, "Are you okay?"

I sighed. "Yes. I don't know why I'm so paranoid."

"I think you're just worried that your dad somehow knows what we did last night and is now coming after us."

I laughed. "He would, if he knew."

"_If_ he knew."

"True. Milk?"

Trey moved towards the fridge to get the milk. After I had poured some in my coffee, he put it back. I blew on my coffee to cool it and Trey watched me from the fridge, smiling. "What?" I finally asked, smiling.

He shrugged. "Just haven't ever felt this content before."

"Me either." I still had that feeling, though, and shaking it off just wasn't working. But what was it? Fear? Fear of what? I mean, obviously I was scared of the Circle finding me, but I had been scared of that for a while and it had never made me feel like this. I turned and looked out the window at the woods that encased the small house. Nothing. No one. No movement.

Trey's arms wrapped around me again and he whispered, "You need to relax."

"How?" I whispered seductively.

He chuckled and kissed my neck. "There are ways."

I was about to set my coffee down and lead him back to the bedroom when the feeling came again, more urgent this time. Something inside of me was screaming at me, trying to tell me something. But I hadn't been to training for so long that I couldn't listen very well. It was like a different language that wasn't one of the fourteen that I spoke.

"Morgan?"

"Sorry," I muttered, setting down my coffee on the granite counter and sighing.

"What's…Did you hear that?" Trey's face had completely transformed. Now, he was focused, strong, and determined. Now he was a spy.

"Hear what?"

"Shh."

I listened, but I didn't hear anything except for the beating of my own heart. Trey was staring intently out the window. I didn't move.

"Maybe it was nothing," he finally said, shaking his head. Then, he gave me a teasing smile. "You've got me all paranoid."

I laughed and was about to joke back when I heard it. First the boom, then the crash. The house came down around us and Trey reached for me, but was knocked off balance by a beam. "Trey!"

I smelled fire.

"Trey!"

A piece of rubble hit me on the head and stars danced before my eyes as I hit the ground. I struggled to breathe. And then I couldn't stay awake any longer.

Lights out.


	20. Chapter 20

20.

The lights were too bright when I opened my eyes. My head hurt and I could barely see, everything was blurry. I groaned when I tried to move; my hands were tied behind my back – tight. I tried to move my hands like I had been taught at Gallagher Academy to try to get out of the binding, but I couldn't.

_Stay calm. Focus._

I breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of stale air. There was something else there, too, but I couldn't quite figure out what it was. I inhaled again, too deeply. I felt a sharp pain in my ribs and I gasped as all of the air escaped me. I breathed in quick, short breaths until I felt okay again.

I opened my eyes again and the light blinded me. I blinked rapidly and it went away within a couple of minutes. I could just make out off-white walls and a carpet that was a strange green color. The lights were fluorescent, but they had an extra-strong quality, kind of like the lights in the sub levels at Gallagher. There was a bed off to the side and on the bed, there was a woman sitting, still, motionless.

I jumped and her thin lips curled into a smile. No, not a smile – a sneer. She was old, probably around fifty and her hair was dark, but graying. Her eyes were the same green as mine, which startled me. Actually, her face was similar to mine in a lot of the ways.

_I must be dreaming._

Facts. I remembered Mr. Solomon – Uncle Solomon – tell me that when you have a head injury and you're captured, you need to go over facts in your head. Simple facts, just to calm yourself.

_My name is Morgan Goode. I'm sixteen-years-old. I have brown hair and bright green eyes. The Circle of Cavan is after me. I can speak fourteen languages. I know five different ways to kill a man with an umbrella. I am a spy prodigy. My dad is an assassin. My mom is a spy. I will follow in their footsteps. I was at a safe house. With Trey…_

"Trey!" I yelled, and then instantly regretted it. My throat was dry and it hurt to talk.

"You might not want to do that," the woman said with a small laugh. "Here." She reached over to a small bedside table and grabbed a bottle of water. It looked so good that at first, I tried to reach for it. The bindings stopped me and I was glad. I jerked my body away and looked away from her.

The woman laughed. "Do you honestly think that I would try to poison you, Morgan, dear?"

I ignored her and tried to think of anything but how thirsty I was. Of course, that only made it worse. I really needed a drink of water. My head pounded even harder from the dehydration.

"Morgan?" The woman's voice was smooth and clear, soft. It sounded so familiar, for some reason. "Morgan, do you honestly think that I would try to poison you?"

I knew that talking would hurt my throat, but I felt a need to answer. To be defiant. "Yes." Instantly, my throat began to burn even more, to the point that I felt like crying. I grit my teeth and breathed in my nose, trying to give my throat a break. My mouth was just so dry….

"I would never do that," she laughed, making the idea of her poisoning me sound ludicrous. "That would defeat the purpose."

"What purpose is that?" The words hurt even more, but I had to know.

"Why don't you take a drink, and we'll talk about it?"

I turned my head to look at her. She was giving me a kind smile, holding out the water bottle to me. I really wanted that water, but…. "No."

She sighed and thought for a moment. "How 'bout I take a drink first?"

That actually sounded fine. Unless…. "You could have the antidote."

She sighed. "You _are_ a smart one, they weren't lying. Gallagher trained you well, huh? And, of course, you're a prodigy."

I narrowed my eyes at her. She reached around and took the binding off of my hands. "Here, take a drink."

My thirst got the better of me and I reached out and snagged the bottle. I ripped the lid off and began to drink, feeling the cool liquid soothe my aching throat and dry mouth. It felt so good and I just kept drinking and drinking until there was nothing left in the bottle.

"Better?"

I nodded and tossed the empty bottle away.

"See?" she said. "I'm your grandmother. I'll take care of you."

"My grandmother?" I asked, shocked.

She smiled as she began to tie my hands again. I was too tired to fight back, but I did utilize my Gallagher training and position my hands so that it would make it easier for me to get out of it later. The woman – my grandmother? – was too preoccupied to notice.

"Yes. Your dear old dad never mentioned me?"

"My dad's mom is dead," I said surely. My dad had told me that she had gotten killed on a mission. I had asked for details, but he had just said it was classified and I had let it go. Had he lied? Was this woman who was holding me captive really my grandmother?

Or was she lying?

"No, dear. I am _very_ much alive," she said. She launched into a story about how she was one of the leaders of The Circle and how she had been after my mother, but she had been too well protected – even by her own son – that she could never be grabbed. My grandmother told me that my father had shot at her and she had fallen off of the edge of the cliff, pretending to be dead and all the while waiting.

For me.


	21. Chapter 21

21.

The room was too cold. Maybe she was trying to freeze me to death, but that didn't make nay sense. If she had wanted me dead, why would she have dug me out of the wreckage of the safe house? Why had she cleaned and bandaged my cuts? Why had she given me a bottle of water?

And where was Trey? She certainly hadn't dug _him_ out of the wreckage. Well, maybe she had, but I still didn't know where he was and that bothered me. Had the house caught on fire? Maybe Trey had burned to death. Maybe he had gotten away. But if he had gotten way, why didn't he come into the wreckage to try to save me? And then, the worst possibility hit me full on. Maybe he had died.

I shook my head vigorously, though it hurt because I was pretty sure that I had a concussion. No, Trey couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. He had saved me from the Circle once and he could do it again. He couldn't be dead. Couldn't. Couldn't. Couldn't. But I knew that it was a possibility and I shuddered.

Maybe she had killed him because she knew that he was a traitor…

"Don't think about that," I growled to myself, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. I still hadn't quite figured out where I was. The room was pretty ordinary, holding only a bed, dresser, bedside table, and lamp. There was a door to a small bathroom, which I had been allowed to use before being forced to go to bed. I could have been in a hotel, I supposed, but I could have also been in a well-set-up warehouse somewhere in the middle of the forest. I couldn't risk trying to escape until I knew what I was facing; otherwise I wouldn't know how to handle whatever was waiting for me. She could have guards stationed everywhere outside the building. She could have Chihuahuas guarding me for all I knew.

The handcuffs cut into my left wrist and I reached up towards my hair instinctively for a bobby pin before I remembered. She had allowed me to put my hair in a messy bun, but no bobby pins allowed. I was steaming on the inside. I hated her so much, grandmother or not. She was a horrible person and I hoped that she fell off of a rather high cliff someday, into an ocean full of sharks.

I sighed. Wishing for my grandmother's death wasn't going to make it happen and it wasn't getting me any closer to escaping. I tried pulling at the other end of the handcuffs, but the headboard was made of iron and was rather strong. No hope in bending it, really, or breaking it. I was, indeed, stuck. And, of course, she had stuck me as far away as possible from the bedside table as a precaution, though I suspected that the bedside table was devoid of helpful objects anyway.

The one time I wanted someone to underestimate me…

"Think," I muttered to myself. "Think. What would Uncle Solomon do?"

_I don't know!_ A voice in my brain shrieked at me. _He would probably already be out of this and home!_

But maybe not. Uncle Solomon had told me himself that I was becoming just as good as him and my mother frequently complained that I acted too much like my dad and my Uncle Solomon. So maybe they would be trapped as well, wondering what to do.

I cursed inwardly. I hated being trapped.

Trey's voice sounded in my head. "Get a good night's sleep and make sure you're well rested. Maybe an opportunity for escape will arise in the morning."

That sounded alright with me, especially since my eyelids were growing rather heavy. I settled my head against the pillow and tried to move my handcuffed arm so that it was in a comfortable enough position.

I fell asleep immediately.

When I woke up, I was vaguely aware of the fact that I did feel a little better. I could focus now and I suspected that the room I was in didn't belong in a hotel. So, where then? I didn't have an answer, but I saw a plate of food sitting beside me on the bed. No fork, of course, because we had learned to pick locks with forks in our first year at Gallagher. The food consisted of an apple, a Danish, and a bottle of water. After doing all that I could to check for poison, I ate it all, not realizing how hungry I had been until it was all gone.

I wanted more, actually.

My grandmother came in almost immediately after I was done, which led me to believe that there was a camera somewhere in the room and that someone was monitoring me all of the time. Excellent. The camera would be too small to see with the naked eye from very far away and I didn't have a pinch or anything. I had nothing to help me.

She smiled sweetly at me. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

"Not quite."

She didn't care that my voice was cold. She sat down on the edge of my bed and said, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Please skip the niceties," I growled. "You have me chained to a bed."

She shrugged. "Okay, then." She picked up my plate and empty water bottle. She took them away and came back into the room, holding the key to my handcuffs in her hand. She smiled at me and I couldn't tell what emotion lurked there. "You look so much like your father, you know."

I ached for my father.

She unlocked my handcuffs and I thought about fighting her, but two burly guys appeared in the doorway to keep watch and I knew that I wasn't yet strong enough to fight them. Sighing in defeat, I went to the bathroom and took a shower, changing into the new clothes that were laid out for me afterwards.

The whole time I was in the shower, though, I was thinking about my escape. And I had a plan.


	22. Chapter 22

22.

Well…it didn't work. At all. As in, I got as far as the door and was caught. My grandmother was marching ahead of me, her graying hair in a strict bun and her voice as livid as her expression. "After _all_ the kindness I've shown you! I saved you from the building! I gave you a room with a comfortable bed! I gave you good food! No more!" Her voice sounded suspiciously like a little schoolgirl shrieking about her ruined hair.

The two guys that held me were strong and one had hit a pressure point so that I couldn't move as quickly as normal. All in all, I didn't quite see how my situation could get much worse. But, of course, it had to. We passed a lake and I got a glimpse of myself in the water: thin and weak-looking, with a dirty face. My dark hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and my mom's eyes stared back at me, defeated. If only she could have seen me then… I wore a gray T-shirt and black basketball shorts, along with small, white Nike shoes that I'd never seen before.

It was getting darker and the guys pulled me with them into the forest. I sighed. This was only getting worse. I didn't recognize anything and the only thing that I could be sure of was that we were heading east. As soon as we got a few feet into the forest, sunlight all but vanished. I could hardly see at all. My grandmother clicked on a flashlight and lit the path in front of us. The guards pulled me along and I almost considered asking one of them to carry me since that's basically what they were doing anyway. I decided against it, though, when I felt that my lip was still throbbing and I could taste blood. Wouldn't want to provoke them again.

We walked farther and farther and I was beginning to get extremely tired. Then, just as I was starting to think that I couldn't take it anymore, we came upon a cave. But, it really wasn't a cave. It led to catacombs, and I knew that I would never escape then. Not while in a labyrinth that my grandmother surely knew like the back of her own hand. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have brought me there.

She seemed to read my mind. She smirked. "It'll be a little tougher to escape now, won't it, dearie?"

I cringed at that term of endearment. How could my dad have grown up the decent person that he was with _her_ as a mother? Is that why he hadn't wanted to join the Circle? Because he had seen what an evil person his mother was and wanted to escape it? Did my mother know? Did anyone know?

"Let's go," my grandmother said to the guards. "We'll lock her away in here with the other one."

_The other one?_ As the guards dragged me along, I couldn't help but feel a little excited. Was there another Gallagher Girl? Would we be able to help each other escape? How long had she been imprisoned? Was she even still sane? Or had she been in here so long that her brain was starting to deteriorate? Did I know her? Had we gone to school together? The questions haunted me as I listened to the only sound: footsteps on the rock floor.

"It's not what you think," my grandmother said quietly and I knew she was talking to me. "The other prisoner that we have. You see, we captured him thinking that he had information that we wanted. When he didn't, we thought that we would get what we needed when they came looking for him, but no one ever got near enough. And, of course, we couldn't let him go because then they really _would _catch us. And we couldn't have that, could we? So, we've been waiting."

_Him_. It was a boy. Or man. Whichever. From the way she made it sound, I thought that it was a man. And by the sound of it, he had been a prisoner for a while.

"You don't know him," she continued. "But it's such a shame that you don't. I'm sure you'll agree when you meet him."

What was she talking about? She was making it sound as if I should know who the prisoner was. Finally, we stopped outside a strong-looking metal door. One of the guards let go of my arm and stepped forward, finding the keys to all three locks. Then, he opened the door and the other guard shoved me inside.

My grandmother laughed cruelly. "Have fun."

I let out a sound of frustration as I quickly surveyed the room. The floor was rock and so were the walls. It seemed as though the room had just been drilled into the side of the wall. There was a small little section separated by a thin pink curtain that I assumed held the bathroom. There were two little beds right next to each other and a light in the ceiling gave off a dim glow.

"Are you alright?"

I jumped up, ready to fight. But the man who had spoken was sitting on one of the beds, looking at me with concern, not even in a fighting stance. I relaxed a little, but not completely. Then, I remembered that he was a prisoner, just like me. I relaxed completely. "I'm fine; thanks. Who are you?"

"You have a cut," he said, standing and approaching me. He had brown hair and brown eyes, with a face that looked a little familiar, but it was probably just one of those faces. He was about as old as my grandmother – both of them – I decided, but he looked strong and fit. He touched the cut on my lip and then looked and saw that I was holding my arm awkwardly. "Did one of them hit a pressure point?"

I nodded. "In my shoulder."

The man did something and I could feel my arm again. My eyes widened in amazement. "That was awesome. Thank you."

He nodded. "You're welcome. There should be a hand towel in the bathroom that you can use to stem the flow of blood," he said, gesturing for the curtain.

"Who are you?" I asked, my bleeding lip forgotten. 

"Matthew Morgan."


	23. Chapter 23

23.

_Matthew Morgan_.

"Grandpa?" I asked timidly, taking a small step backwards.

He raised his eyebrows. "What did you call me?"

"You're…you're…you're my grandfather," I got out, trying to make sense of it myself. My mother had said that he was dead. That he went on a mission and never came back. That no one ever found his body and she would have at least liked to have known how he had died. But he hadn't died at all. He was very much alive. And he was a prisoner with me.

He looked at me closely and then took a step nearer. Looking into my eyes. "I'm sorry..." he said softly. "I don't…"

Of course. He was probably very confused. He had been a prisoner for a long time, it sounded like. More than seventeen years. More like twenty-five. His hair was gray from stress and he had stress lines on his face.

"I'm Cammie's daughter," I said softly. "Your daughter…"

"Rachel and Cammie," he interrupted, grabbing my arms tightly and looking into my eyes. "How are they?" He sounded desperate, like his entire wellbeing was resting on my answer.

I gave him a reassuring smile, even though I wasn't feeling very confident about our situation. "They're good; both good. Grandma works at the school as the Headmistress and Mom works for the CIA. Well, she was until she had Rider and Josie. They're twins and they're adorable." I smiled sadly at the mention of my little siblings.

"And you're her oldest?" he asked, sinking onto the bed, a small smile on his face.

"Yes," I answered.

"Her husband…" he said slowly. "What's he like? Tell me about him."

"His name's Zach," I replied. It felt strange to be calling my father by his first name. "He works for the CIA too. He went to Blackthorne and he's a really good spy. He's really close to Uncle Solomon…"

"_Uncle_ Solomon?" my grandfather asked, raising an eyebrow. "How does that work?"

"He married aunt Abby," I said.

"Rachel's sister?" he asked, sounding sort of surprised.

I nodded. "Yeah; that's the one."

He nodded slowly. "So, tell me about you."

I sat on the other bed, facing him as I sat with my legs criss-crossed. "Um, well, what do you want to know?"

He shrugged. "Anything you'll give me. Go over your facts."

My facts. The things I had to tell myself when I was trying to get over shock or a particularly hard blow. "Okay. My name is Morgan Goode. I'm seventeen-years-old. I'm the best in my year at Gallagher Academy. I was in hiding from the Circle, but apparently, they found me. I was in hiding with this guy named Trey that-" I cut off as my throat closed up and I felt tears sting my eyes. I had no idea where Trey was or what was happening him. Had the Circle gotten to him? Had they killed him? Had the falling building killed him?

"What happened there?" my grandfather asked, noting my change.

I shrugged. "He could be dead, for all I know. He was in the safe house with me when it went down. I don't remember anything…"

"The Circle is ruthless," he said. "Unless Trey go tout of there as quickly as he could, I doubt that he's even alive. I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "I need the truth. And Trey wouldn't have left me, so maybe the building killed him. I'd rather the building kill him than those horrible people."

My grandfather nodded. "Do they think I'm dead? Rachel and Cammie?"

I nodded. "Yeah, they do. Or, at least, that's what they've always told me."

He nodded slowly. "I'd rather them think that than to think I'd been captured. I wouldn't want them to try to come after me and walk into a trap."

"That's what they want," I said. "That woman, the head of it all, is Zach's mom; my other grandmother. She only took me to draw Cammie in. She thinks Mom had information."

"That's a lie!" he thundered suddenly. "They think that I told Cammie something but I never did! I don't even know what they want; but I _never_ would have put her in that kind of danger!"

"What happened?" I asked. "How did they get you?"

"Ambush," he snarled. "The cowards. One of them hit me with a tranquilizer and I woke up here."

"You've been here all this time?"

He nodded. "It's not as bad as you'd think. We can take showers and we get fresh clothes everyday and the food isn't too bad."

"You look like you're in pretty good shape," I noted.

He nodded. "I work out every morning." He pointed to a small clock on the wall. "Usually at six. It never gets very hot in here, either."

"How have you stayed sane?" I asked. "I mean, being in here all these years must be horrible."

"It is," he answered. "It has been. But I just repeat facts to myself. Every few days, one of them will bring a book in and they'll sit and watch me read it. It helps."

I shook my head, feeling my chest start to hurt. "I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack. I can't be in here for that long. I have to find out what happened to Trey and I have to…"

He moved from his bed and sat beside me. He smelled fresh and clean. Maybe not insanely amazing like Trey, but clean and warm. He rubbed small circles in my back. "I went through this too when they first put me in here," he soothed. "You just have to breathe through it. Just breathe."

I took his advice and began to breathe with my head between my knees. He stayed beside me and finally, when I looked up, he smiled warmly at me. "You have your mother's nose, you know."

I nodded slowly. "I've been told."

"It'll be alright," he said. "We'll figure a way out of here."

"You've been in here for a long time," I said, doubting.

He nodded. "But I've never had help before."

I smiled. "Then let's do it."


	24. Chapter 24

24.

Okay…you're going to think that I am totally insane. But, I'm not – I swear. It just really was…fine. I mean, sure, I would have rather not have been locked up and a prisoner, but as far as prisons go…the one that they'd put me in wasn't bad. After all, I did get to meet my grandfather – a man that I'd thought was dead ever since I'd been born. He loved me from the start and I loved him in return – after all, we were family.

He was a big help at keeping my mind off of things. He told me stories about my mom when he was little and he even told me how he'd met my grandmother. He told me about training when he was young and the whole story about how he'd been captured and details on the Circle. He taught me a Korean form of martial arts that I'd never learned before and I excelled quickly at it. He quizzed me about random techniques and I found that time actually passed fairly quickly. Every day, when we first woke up, he would pick a language to speak for that day. Then, we would work out and then we'd take showers. After that, we would read or talk and sometimes, we would plan. It was a slow process since we didn't have a lot of materials or opportunities to work with, but we were definitely making some headway.

"Ready?" my grandfather asked me.

I wrung my hands nervously. "I'm going to feel so bad about this…"

He smiled gently at me. "I promise; I've had _so_ much worse. And they have a doctor working for them, anyway. He's fixed my bones before. It'll be fine."

"But broken noses are so…uncomfortable," I said, wrinkling my own nose – which I had broken twice. Once when I was six and fell off of a swing and once when I was fourteen and had bashed my head into a wall on a training op.

"I know," he said. "Believe me. But it has to be done and I _will not_ hurt _you_."

I sighed. "Right. Because I'm a girl and blah blah blah."

He shook his head, smiling. "No, actually. I was going to say because I'm the oldest and I feel a certain responsibility to protect you. Now, are you ready?"

I sighed. "I guess."

"Then let's go," he said. "Remember, I'm going to miss the-"

"Fifth block," I replied in a bored voice. "Come on, grandpa. I'm not stupid."

He laughed heartily. "No, I guess you're not. We should get ready."

We took our places at the far end of the room, where we usually practiced our martial arts. It was ideal because nothing was in our way and we had plenty of space to maneuver. Quickly, we stretched and began to warm up, my grandfather occasionally giving me tips because I was still new to this form of martial arts.

Right on time, the door opened and a man came in, bearing a tray of breakfast. My grandfather said the words that were the cue. "Ah, breakfast. One more time on this set and we'll eat. Sound good, Morgan?"

I nodded and got into my stance. "Remember," he said to me. "Your kick needs to be high."

I nodded. "Got it."

Then, we began. He blocked my punch, and then my jab. He blocked my kick and then my next punch. The next blow was the one he was going to miss on purpose, and it had to be perfect. I spun as fast as I possibly could on one foot, and my other foot planted firmly on my grandfather's face. I could hear the crack and I knew that I had broken his nose. I wasn't acting when I shrieked, "grandfather!"

"I'm fine," he said, but his voice was all messed up. I could see blood seeping through his fingers.

The man with the tray set it down on the bed and rushed over to my grandfather. He examined him quickly and then called, "This guy has a broken nose! We need to get him to see Jason!"

Another man came in and they helped my grandfather to his feet and led him away, shutting the door firmly behind them. I heard the door lock and I sighed as I sat onto the bed with the tray of food. I ate my portion of oatmeal and one of the apples, and then I paced the room, waiting for my grandfather's return. Even he had said that he had no idea how long it would take, so I just kept getting more and more anxious.

Finally, my grandfather was escorted back into the room by two men. He was seemingly unconscious, and I jumped to the side while they hauled him to his bed. After they'd deposited him upon the bed, they gave me a glare for causing them so much trouble and then they left, shutting and locking the door behind them. I waited for two whole minutes before I approached the door and pressed my ear against it, listening closely. Then, I went over to his bed. "Grandpa; we're clear."

He sat up immediately, opening his deep brown eyes. He flashed me a smile and then spit two small, white pills into his hand. His nose looked a little better, but he had two black eyes and I frowned. "Maybe you should take one of those for the pain."

He shook his head. "It's not all that bad. They reset it and it feels better. Oh, and I even managed to get these." From the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a pair of tweezers and two needles in a thin package.

My eyes lit up. "So we're in?"

"No," he corrected. "We're _out_."


	25. Chapter 25

25.

"Are you ready yet? Are you ready yet?" I knew that repeating that phrase over and over again wasn't helping, but I just couldn't seem to stop myself. I couldn't help but think about what would happen if we got caught. Maybe they would put us in separate rooms. Maybe they would beat us. Maybe they would starve us. Maybe they would dehydrate us. Maybe they would just save themselves the trouble about worrying about us anymore and just kill us.

Like they'd killed Trey.

"Are you ready yet?" I asked, needing to keep my mind off of Trey.

"Almost."

"Hurry," I pleaded.

He sighed. "You're more than welcome to give this a try. But I was the best lock picker that my training group had and-"

"Let me try!" I said impatiently, nudging him with my leg to get him to move.

He sighed and handed me the needles before moving off to the side. I crouched down and got to work at the lock. "He's still out. He'll be out for about an hour more." my grandpa said of the man we'd knocked out using one of the pain pills that grandpa had gotten. It was actually a pretty cool technique that grandpa had used to do it. I'd never seen it before and he'd promised to teach me once we were out…

The lock clicked and I smiled triumphantly. "We're out."

"How did you do that?" My grandpa sounded a little disappointed that he hadn't been the one to do it.

I shrugged. "Newer generation. Come on; let's go."

Silently, we crept into the dim hall, looked both ways, and took off on silent feet. We would be able to hear anyone coming because the Circle had no reason to sneak around in their headquarters; their footsteps would be heard. And anyways, it was late at night and they were supposed to have someone guarding us. They wouldn't be suspicious until the guy who'd been guarding us woke up.

"Which way?" I asked when we reached a part that split two different ways.

"Whatever we do," he said, "We have to stick together. This is a maze and we might not be able to find each other again if we split up. Now let's see…" his face lit up suddenly. "Do you have that needle?"

I nodded confusedly and held out the two needles. He walked towards the wall and picked up a small rock. He came back and took the needle. "Find a puddle of water."

"There's one right there," I said, pointing towards a corner a few yards away. "Why?"

"This rock," he said as he began to rub the rock over the needle. "It's a lodestone."

I racked my brains, but came up with nothing. "A what?"

"Lodestone," he repeated. "Magnetic iron ore." He continued rubbing it over the needle.

"Why…?"

"We need to go north," he said.

"Yeah…" I said, still not getting it. "I know. But how is that going to help?"

'Well," he answered quietly as he continued rubbing the needle with the rock. "If I rub this needle with the lodestone, I'll magnetize it. Basically, I'll turn it into a compass needle. If we can get it to float on the water without breaking the surface tension…" He slid the needle into the water and I held my breath. It floated and I let the breath out. Then, it turned and pointed straight to the mouth of the tunnel on the right.

"That's the way we go," my grandfather said. "We need to keep this needle and the rock." He pocketed them. "Let's go."

"That was so cool," I said in amazement as we headed down the tunnel. "It pointed north, just like a compass would."

He smiled. "Well, it was probably a few degrees off, but it was close enough. These days, so many new gadgets are made that people forget that we can still rely on older means to help ourselves. I learned that trick when I was growing up in Nebraska."

"Really?" I asked.

He nodded as we jogged along at a steady pace. "I was always really into science and history – well, mostly history – but anyway, I had learned about magnetic iron ore in science and I decided to try it on the lake once and it worked."

"Wow," I said.

He smiled. "Stick with me, kid. I can teach you a lot of things. I think that's one thing the younger generation doesn't understand. We from the older generation are just as good, if not better."

I smiled. "I'm not a kid, grandpa."

"You are to me," he responded. "Mind if we pick up the pace a little bit?"

I shrugged and we sped up.

A little bit later, the paths split again and my grandpa looked at the watch he had stolen from the guard. "We have about ten minutes until he wakes up," he said. "We have to get a move on."

We found another puddle of water that pointed us in the right direction. "We're lucky it rained lately and caves leak," he said as we sprinted down the proper tunnel.

"Very lucky," I replied, keeping pace with him easily. I was glad that we had been working out every day, or it might have been a lot harder. He had been very wise for working out every day that he was held captive. Otherwise, it would have been extremely hard for him.

There was a strange roaring in the distance. "What's that sound?" I asked.

He didn't reply.

And then we reached the end of the line and I saw that we were behind a giant waterfall. The noise was deafening and I was being sprayed with water, which I gratefully drank in after the spring. I saw my grandfather doing the same. Finally, he said, "We have to jump."

"What?"

"It's the only way!" he insisted, looking at the watch. "The guard is probably up by now."

I knew that he was right, but I didn't like it.

"Come on," he said, holding out his hand. "We'll jump together."

"Don't let go," I said as I grabbed his hand tightly.

He smiled. "On three, then. One. Two."

"Three," I said and we leaped together through the water and into the darkness.


	26. Chapter 26

26.

The first thing you should know is that the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women doesn't train girls to jump over waterfalls. Nope, not at all. They don't even teach us to swim because swimming is something that every girl should learn at the age of five (or somewhere close to that age).

The second thing that you should know is that I did – in fact – learn to swim when I was three-years-old. My dad took me out to a deserted section of the lake one afternoon and taught me how to swim. After that, I loved swimming. And I was actually very good at it, even though I didn't really find time to do it when school was in session.

The third thing you should know is: It's scary. I was holding on to my grandpa's hand, but it was ripped away after a split second. The water was crashing down on us and the force ripped us apart. "Morgan!" I heard his voice call, but when I opened my mouth to reply, water entered and it gagged me. I fell down for what felt like an hour but what was actually only about seven or eight seconds. Spy training or not, I didn't count. I didn't want to count.

Hitting the water at the bottom felt like falling from the Empire State Building onto the street below. (Not that I'd know that for a fact or anything, but still.) My whole body hurt instantly, especially my head, and stars danced before my eyes. My mouth had slackened when I hit and water entered too fast, choking me.

Images danced before my eyes. Trey laughing. Rider and Josie. Archery exams at Gallagher. Training with my grandpa. The compass that he had made from the needle and that rock.

A strong hand grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the water. I could feel myself being pulled along, but I couldn't really do much besides cough up a bunch of water. My whole body was killing me, but the freezing water helped to numb the pain, at least.

The Circle…had they found out by now? Were people already on their way? Would they be able to find us? What would they do with us if they did? I had so many questions that I wanted answered, but I knew that no one could be sure of the answer.

I felt solid ground beneath me all of a sudden and a hand on my wrist, steady fingers feeling my pulse. And then, a voice said, "Can you hear me, Morgan?"

I nodded, but the motion hurt my head and I winced.

"Easy, baby girl" the voice said and it sounded like whoever was talking was using a voice changer. It was strange. "Is anything broken?"

I didn't know, to be totally honest about it. All of me hurt. The pain wasn't centralized anywhere, though, so I figured that nothing was too badly injured. "No," I managed to get out and then I began choking up water again.

Arms helped me sit up and I coughed the water back onto the ground. There was the sound of something in the water and another voice said, "Who are you?"

"Are they coming?" The first voice said as whoever it was put something in my mouth. I swallowed and felt instant relief, though I still hurt. The stars quit dancing and began to go away, but everything was still dark.

"Not yet. Who are you?"

"Zach Goode," the voice said. "I'm her father."

"You're married to my daughter…"

"You're Cammie's father?"

And then everything came into focus and I could see my dad, looking at my grandpa, who had just pulled himself out of the water. They were staring at each other, looking bewildered. "Daddy?"

My father turned and knelt beside me, feeling my head. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "We need to get out of here," I said in a groggy voice.

He nodded and pulled me to my feet. "Come on, let's go."

My grandpa got on my other side and they helped me along for a while before I decided I could do it myself. My dad looked unsure, but I managed to assure him and we took off again, going a little faster. My grandpa filled my dad in on everything and I just walked, not really listening.

I wanted, of course, to ask if he knew anything about Trey. Obviously he would if he had known to come after me. But, then again, I didn't want to know the answer. Because what if Trey was dead? What would I do then? But what if he was alive? Was it worth taking the risk?

"To the right," my dad said. "We'll cut across here. My vehicle is about two miles away."

Two miles seemed like forever. Far too long. I mean, sure, I had run two miles before. Lots and lots of times before. In fact, it was two miles to the town of Roseville from Gallagher, and usually I chose to jog there whenever we got to go into town. Two miles normally wasn't even a workout for me. Now five miles, completely different story. But, I felt like I'd been beat with a bag of bricks and needless to say, I didn't feel like going two miles, whether we were going to run or just walk.

After about a mile, a guy jumped out with a gun pointed right at us. As my dad was moving to step in front of me, someone else jumped out from behind the guy and kicked him. Then, the guy with the gun was knocked out cold with another kick.

"I thought I told you to stay by the car?" My dad said, though he sounded grateful.

The rescuer looked up and I saw Trey's bright smile as he said, "I don't take orders well."

"Trey!" I ran into his arms, not caring that my body was hurting.

"You two can make out later," my dad snapped. "We need to move."

And then, Trey grabbed my hand and helped me through the last mile and into the waiting van.


	27. Chapter 27

27.

"What's going on?" I whispered, clinging to Trey's hand even though we were safely in the black car. My dad and my grandfather were in the front, discussing strategy in low voices.

Trey griped my hand back, not seeming to want to let me go. "I don't know; not really. I was out for a few days after your dad pulled me out of the house."

"My dad pulled you out?"

He nodded. "I guess he was coming to check in on us."

"I thought you were dead," I whispered, tears stinging at my eyes. "They made it sound like you were dead."

He touched my face and spoke in a soft, gentle whisper. "I'm right here, Morgan. Right here."

"Were you hurt?"

He shrugged. "Concussion. Nothing worse than that. A few cuts and bruises. What about you?"

"Cuts and bruises," I nodded. "Concussion. I'm fine, though."

He nodded and leaned in to kiss my forehead gently. "I was scared I'd lost you, too. We searched the wreckage and couldn't find anything at all. And then we just…knew. It scared me to death, knowing that they had you. That _she_ had you."

"My grandma?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, your dad told me that's who it probably was. Did she hurt you?"

I shook my head. "No. I kind of think she just wanted revenge."

"Probably." He made a sound of disgust. "I only met her once, but it was enough. She didn't strike me as the pleasant type."

"She's not."

"So, what all happened in there?"

As we rode along in the dark, I told Trey about being trapped in the catacombs with my grandfather. I told him about everything I'd learned and how they'd treated us pretty well for prisoners. I finished my tale and he smiled. "At least you got something good out of this."

When I raised an eyebrow, he said, "You got to meet your grandfather. Whom everyone thought was dead, by the way."

I nodded. "Yeah, it was a bit of a shock for me, too."

My dad was saying something about an ambush and I didn't even have time to wonder what that meant because Trey put his lips right next to my ear and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too," I whispered back, just as softly. "Do you remember…?"

"Yes," he said as if he'd just read my mind. He probably had; I could feel the images projecting from my mind. The crickets chirping outside the window, the feel of his skin against mine, and the silky sheets. The way that he kissed a trail down my body and how it had felt when we became two parts of a whole, joined together. "I do remember," he whispered.

"I didn't know if you would," I murmured softly. "After the concussion and everything."

"No," he said. "I remember. And maybe you don't, but I asked you something that night."

I tilted my head slightly and tried to think back. That question must have fallen in my blank period, though, because I couldn't really remember him asking me a question. "What are you talking about?"

He smiled at me and leaned in to give me a quick kiss on my lips, setting off fireworks in my stomach. "You sure you don't remember?"

And then, I did.

_We laid there afterwards, the sheets covering us and Trey's arms wrapped protectively around me. "Are you okay?" he asked as he kissed my slightly sweaty temple._

"_Yeah, I'm fine," I answered, smiling. _

"_Good," he whispered and kissed me softly. _

"_I think I may be sore tomorrow, though," I admitted, earning a smile from him. _

"_Maybe," he said and then his expression grew serious. "I need to ask you something."_

"_Okay," I said, confused as to why he had grown so serious. We had just been intimate with each other for the first time, what could possibly be so serious? _

"_I want you to think about something for me, okay?"_

"_Sure."_

"_And I don't want a definite answer until tomorrow. Take the night to think about it."_

_I was confused. "Okay. What is it?"_

"_I want you to think about our future together. I mean, with the Circle after you and everything. I want you to think about…marrying me."_

_A stupid grin came onto my face, but before I could say yes, he said, "Think about it, okay? I don't want your answer until tomorrow. Think."_

_I sighed. "Fine; if that's what you want."_

_He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. "That's what I want."_

The flashback ended and I looked at Trey, who was studying me closely. "Morgan? You okay?"

"I remembered," I said softly.

He narrowed his eyes. "As in?"

"Yes?"

"What?" He looked immensely confused.

"Yes, I'll marry you," I said, a tear falling form my eye.

He grinned broadly and leaned in to kiss me.

"We're here," my dad said abruptly from the front. I looked out the window and knew that we were pulling into a rest stop, where cars were waiting. I could see my grandmother and Uncle Joe and Aunt Abby. I saw Grant and Bex and Liz and Macey and I smiled at the familiar people.

We got out of the car and almost instantly, my grandmother and grandpa ran into each other's arms. "Aw," I said as a tear came to my eye. "They love each other so much."

"Listen up!" my dad said. "It has to be _tonight_. It has to be right now. We're going in."

"All over it," Uncle Joe said. "Just tell us where you want us."

"Let's see…" he said. "We have to figure out how to lure them out. We could…"

"Use bait?" I suggested.

Instantly, he shook his head. "You're not going back in there, Morgan."

"I have to," I said with finality. "I have to help end this. It's personal."

"Morgan-"

"Let her do it."

Everyone looked at Trey and he flashed me a smile. "What? We all know she deserves this. And she wants them gone as much as any of you."

"Fine," my dad said. "But if something happens to her I'll personally murder you."

"Heard this one before," Trey muttered as he winked at me.

"Let's go," my dad said as if he didn't hear him.

"Come on." Trey said.

I took his hand and he led me into a vehicle and we sped off into the night.


	28. Chapter 28

28.

"This plan is horrible."

"It's the best we've got," I whispered back to Trey as we crouched in the shadows.

"I bet all of these people have been with the CIA for at least ten years and they don't have a better plan than this?"

"Do you have something better?" my dad snapped in a low voice.

"_I_ haven't had CIA training. Just Blackthorne training. And for the record-"

"Shh," my grandfather replied softly, creeping up beside us. "Everything's all set from our end. Ready here?"

"Ready as ever," I replied, straightening my shirt. I took a deep breath and stared towards my target. Butterflies went off in my stomach as I thought about the risks.

"There are snipers in place," Trey reminded me. "And we're not far away."

"I know." I forced a smile. "I can do this."

He flashed me a return smile and pulled me in for a kiss. "Jesus," I heard my dad mutter, but I really didn't care what he thought. "Be careful," trey whispered when we pulled away.

"I always am," I said softly and stood to walk away.

The night was cold and I hugged myself tightly as I walked across the grounds, making no noise. An owl hooted but I didn't jump; I'd seen it in the trees as I passed. All of my spy senses were on high alert. I knew that I was walking southeast. I knew that it was three in the morning. I knew that if I turned right, there would be a tree four steps away. I was aware of everything.

I began to worry, somewhere deep inside. I'd always had a part of me that didn't think I was good enough. What if I messed up and got captured again? What if I got shot or what if someone got hurt trying to protect me? I desperately wanted to turn and run back into Trey's arms and just stay there, safe. And I knew that Trey would let me, too; he wouldn't be angry at me. He would understand. But I also knew that I couldn't do that. I had to do my part to get rid of this horrible organization. They'd been behind dozens of assassinations. They'd held my grandfather captive for close to thirty years. They'd held me captive. They'd almost killed Trey.

And they wouldn't stop unless something was done about it.

So I continued to walk, ignoring the cold and focusing on happy things. I tried to picture my wedding – the bridesmaids' dresses and the church and the reception. I pictured a happy life with Trey, having someone that I knew I could trust. I pictured our children playing in the living room, a boy that looked just like Trey and a girl that looked like me. I pictured sending our own kids off to Gallagher and Blackthorne, finally safe from the Circle. Maybe they would be able to find somebody to love like I'd found Trey. After all, anything could happen – and a spy knows that better than anyone.

I felt the presence before I saw her. I just…knew. And that's something that you'll never understand unless you're a spy. But, I knew that she was there and so I stopped. And then I heard her voice, coming from the trees to the right. "I told you to behave yourself."

"I don't take orders from people that keep me like a prisoner."

She stepped out then, and in the moonlight, I could just make out her pale skin and flaming hair, pulled into a neat bun. She smiled cruelly, like a lion cornering a gazelle. But she had no idea that it wouldn't be as easy as she thought. "Morgan, darling," she crooned, stepping closer, crunching a leaf under her black boots. "I never took you for a fool."

"I'm not." And then I realized… Something wasn't right. And then I heard the gunshots and the yells. A fight had broken out. And I had no idea if my backup would be able to come to my aide.

"What's going…?" But I got nothing but static from my earpiece.

"Just you and me, Morgan. Goode on Goode. Let's see who's better, hmm?"

But I was in no mood to find out. I ran, sprinting through the trees in the direction of the catacombs. I don't know why I was going back there, but I just ran, trying to form a plan in my head as I escaped.

I could hear her black boots behind me, keeping up fairly well. I struggled to force my mind into overdrive, trying to come up with something. Anything. But the first few plans that I came up with weren't good and the next few seemed impossible because I didn't have any sort of weapon on me. Sure, I could have formed a weapon out of my shoelace, but that would mean stopping.

And I couldn't stop.

I entered the catacombs and kept running, trying to push myself as fast as I could go. My grandmother – my horrible, wretched grandmother – was still behind me. I kept running and everything felt so familiar…

And then I saw why. The waterfall wasn't that far away. I could hear it and I stopped as I realized it was at the end of the tunnel. Slowly, I walked forward until I was close enough that I could feel a light mist.

"Morgan!" my grandmother called from the end of the tunnel. "Morgan, stop!"

But I jumped.

"Morgan, no!" That voice wasn't my grandmother's. It was Trey's, coming from somewhere below. He'd be able to pull me out…

But as I hit the water, I knew that wouldn't be the case. The water was different. Colder and faster. It pulled me under with so much force that I felt as if a large boulder were crushing me. Spots danced before my eyes as I tried to hold on and defeat filled me as I realized that I couldn't.

_Thank you, Trey. Thank you for teaching me how to fall._

And then I gave in.


	29. Chapter 29

**AN: I ended the story like I did because it's an ambiguous ending. Meaning, it could be interpreted a lot of different ways. You could believe that she died or you could believe that, despite all odds, she survived. I figured it would be better for each of you to come up with your own ending. So, sorry for the confusion. **


End file.
